Boot to the Head!

Nothing is more frightening than to be accused of something terrible. I've been writing for years and have never really been accused of anything bad. Except that one time I had to asked this military spouse what her husband's rank was after he blew me off and got into formation to board an aircraft leaving for Iraq. Once in formation I knew they could not be bothered unless it was a dire emergency so I found his wife and asked her. She told me he was a sergeant and so that's what I published under a photo of the two kissing each other goodbye.

The following week after he got a copy of the newspaper, I get a phone call from him all the way from Iraq to complain that I demoted him. I felt bad that it happened, then I played the tape recorder I had in my hand of his wife telling me he was a sergeant. But offered to print a retraction in the next issue which he apologized for yelling at me and hung up to call his wife. The next day I received a phone call from his wife, asking if it was too late for me to print a retraction to include the words "his wife mistakenly told the reporter the wrong rank."

I'm sure her husband fussed at her and demanded she correct the problem based on the sadness of her voice. I told her it wouldn't be a problem to print a correction and that I would not blame her for the mistake. I'd go ahead and take the hit if the editor asked. So the following week since I was doing a story about the recent deployments taking place on the base that I added a different photo of the couple's loving embrace with the correct rank on it. I emailed her a copy so she could see what would be in the paper. She was happy about it and was sure her husband would be happy about it as well. He was. He wanted a perfect copy to send to his mother. He still teases her about it every now and then, when we see each other at the coffee shop we try to be the first to buy the other a cup of coffee every now and then. Until he was deployed again and this time never made it home ... alive. I haven't seen her since the news was published. Sadly, I take turns with four others to write the obits and it breaks my heart when its someone I know, have done interviews with or even hung out with after work.

Since then I've done my best to ask their full names, ranks and units before they had to get into formation or double check with their rear detachments if I had questions.

Life is about lessons and when you think you've learned them all, it takes a boot to the head to make you realize you haven't learned everything.

Two weeks ago as I checked my work list, I noticed one of my stories didn't post. Upon reading the editor's note it said I was accused of plagiarizing and that he would be in contact with me soon. I was devastated. I spent hours worrying and wondering what happened. I thought I attributed all my sources, posted the links and even made sure to rewrite my posts so that it doesn't copy word for word. I made myself sick with worry that I didn't eat, coffee had no appeal to me at that time and I felt a deep sorrow.

Working for a newspaper I knew the seriousness of plagiarizing and was hurt that I would do such a thing after training more than hundreds of young soldiers about journalism and what's expected of them when they write for me from the field or downrange in Iraq or Afghanistan. I thought to myself, "how could I slip up like this? Me? The person with a desk filled with style guides and other reference books."

Then I get another message by email stating that because this was a serious matter they will decide on what to do about it.

After crying for an hour I swallowed my self-pity and wrote back that I did not mean to commit such a crime and would take full responsibility for my actions. I'd even stop posting until the matter has been resolved. I enjoyed the opportunity given to me and I almost lost it all due to ignorance.

I'm lucky to work with people who are understanding and willing to help when called upon. It was the boot to the head that made me realize that I got too comfortable with my writing style that I didn't pay attention to detail and got to arrogant to think my work was nothing less than grade A material. Sometimes it takes a boot to the head to show you how human you really are and make you stop and think.