One Helluva Week In Florida

This article was written by Florida-based radio correspondent Peter King

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In 1969, as he greeted the returning Apollo 11 astronauts after their eight-day trip to the moon, President Richard Nixon called it the "greatest week in the history of the world since the Creation."

Now, I'm not comparing this past week to THAT. But if you were a reporter here in the Sunshine State, you might be thinking along similar lines, journalistically speaking.

In the eight days that began February 1, 2007, we had four national lead stories unfold in Florida. In my time here, this has never happened (not counting long-term stories like the election recount, the 2004 hurricanes, the 2000 election recount, Terri Schiavo or Elian Gonzales, all of which stretched on for weeks and months).

The first week in February had heads spinning and wondering, "What could possibly happen next?"

Wednesday, Jan. 31, and Thursday, Feb. 1

For me, the week actually begins Wednesday, as I drove the 230 or so miles from my home in Orlando to Miami for Super Bowl XLI, check into my hotel, get my credentials and start reporting. Piece of cake.

Except added to that was a self-imposed goal of interviews for the eventual demise of Fidel Castro, which meant Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning trips to the University of Miami in that city's legendary traffic. No problem. Mission accomplished, followed by Thursday drives to impoverished Liberty City, then to the home of a local business professor for stories on the Super Bowl, its economic impact, and the disparity between the super-rich attendees and super-poor who live in cars and trucks.

Then back to the media center in Miami Beach for Thursday afternoon news conference (or "newser") with the "Field Generals," the NFL's pioneering African-American quarterbacks. I'm armed with a request for a Q and A for one of our talk shows with Doug Williams, the first black quarterback to play in the Super Bowl. Mission accomplished. Again. And then, back to my hotel to cut tape for Friday morning packages.

For the second night in a row, it's fast food in the room instead of attending one of the posh and expensive media bashes that are so prominent during Super Bowl week.

Friday, Feb. 2

As I wake up, I see that tornados have hit north of Orlando in Lake and Volusia County. The death toll is two. I call my wife, who assures me she and our home are fine. So I move on to the media center and get on with my work.

The Super Bowl Coach newsers are done by 9:30 a.m. and as I'm cutting sound, the phone rings. It's Constance Lloyd, my boss, who tells me the tornado deaths have jumped from two to 14. I have to head back north as fast as I can. It takes an hour, as I need to wrap up the stories I'm writing and cutting, then get some equipment from my hotel. It's back up I-95 to pick up a satellite uplink at home. Then another hour on to Volusia County-Deland, where the twister has trashed many homes.

The tornados have been the lead story all day and the death toll rises to 20. I'm in Deland by 5 p.m. but cannot go to stricken areas without a police escort. Editors are breathing down my neck for SOMETHING.

Plus, as in all natural disasters, communication is spotty at best. Fortunately my handheld satellite phone works and I can at least tell them what I face. When I can get to stricken areas, my cell phone works and I can phone in live on scene descriptions ("ROSRS" or radio on scene reports) — enough to last for several hours worth of newscast and updates.

At 7 p.m., it's back home (another hour) with a stop for dinner to go (a Publix supermarket calzone) and an hour's work to send back more tape via computer and email.

Saturday, Feb. 3

Up at 7 a.m., on the road to Paisley in eastern Lake County by 7:45 a.m. Thirteen people died there. It's at least an hour's drive but I call in with some details and info that can be used on the air immediately.

I get to Lake Mack, a mobile home community that is trashed. I phone in immediate ROSRS and wait to be allowed past a police roadblock. It happens, I get my interviews and more ROSRs, and head back to the car to set up the satellite link to feed to New York good quality sound.

It takes several minutes for the transmitter to find the appropriate satellite and give me the "ready for call" icon. But the call won't go through, and I can't get our satellite guru on the phone for help. I'm frustrated because satellite quality would make my sound sing. Fortunately the cell phone works, and I can feed that way. Even though the audio quality is lower, it gets the job done. Later I find a Dunkin' Donuts where I can get coffee and e-mail the sound — high quality and all — and then it's back on the road again. To Miami.

Saturday night, Miami, Feb. 3

The second drive south in four days sends me to the house of my college roommate, Marty Gould. Marty, his wife Stephanie (both ex-newsies) and I enjoy Mexican takeout and watch a replay of the Jets win over the Colts in Super Bowl III. A nice respite from the horrors of the day in Deland. I leave with the Goulds' last trash bag, which they generously give me in case I need to cover my equipment tomorrow night at Dolphins Stadium. The forecast calls for rain.

Sunday, Feb. 4

At 9 a.m., I got to the media center to pick up game-day credentials. The NFL insists on separate credentials for the week preceding the game, so it means another long line and long wait. Except there is no line, no wait and my credentials are in order. For the first time in my short Super Bowl history (this is my fifth), the NFL has awarded me a coveted stadium parking pass! God Bless the NFL! It means I can come and go on my time, and not have to worry about taking the shuttle busses and running on their schedule! Did I mention how much I love the NFL?

By the way, the one media party I can attend — the Sunday morning media brunch — I have not been invited to. It doesn't matter, because I am giddy about the parking pass. And also happy to have run into a former co-worker from 20 years ago at the media center. This may be a first for a reporter: saying that free food does not matter.

It's been raining and I've filed stories on that. By 1 p.m. I'm on my way to Dolphins Stadium, in my own car, in the rain.

I'm at the stadium by 2 p.m. Everything falls into place. This can't be happening! Past history has told me to expect the worst. Bad — or no — phone lines, equipment malfunctions and Internet crashes at my workspace. None of this happens. The lines work, the WiFi works, the equipment works and I even hitched a golf cart ride up the ramp to my seat. There's a media lounge nearby with food, drink and, yes, popcorn for the taking.

When the game ends, New York wants plenty of material and the copy editor wants to know when I'll be back in my hotel room to file some more. Arrgh! I do get there by 1:30 a.m. or so, and file morning packages. I am asleep by 3 a.m., awake by 8 a.m. or so and I'm on the road by about 10:30 a.m. Five hours later I'm home, in time for a 7 p.m. appointment with our accountant to do our taxes. Tomorrow and Wednesday are supposed to be off days. The news seems very far away.

At 8:30 p.m., on the way home from the tax man, I'm on the phone with a friend when a reporter pal, Rory O'Neill, calls to tell me something incredible has happened. A NASA astronaut, Lisa Nowak, has been arrested. In Orlando. For attacking a woman who was said to be dating an astronaut Nowak was in love with.

There's more. The 900-mile drive from Houston wearing a diaper. A disguise. A duffel bag with weapons. Other weird stuff. He's got to be making this up. He isn't. I've covered space since 1994, and for CBS News since 1996. And though there have been some strange stories out of NASA, I can guarantee that no space reporter has had one quite like this. No has one WANTED to cover one like this.

My friend Rory is an occasional CBS News stringer, and has filed for us, since I am supposed to be off for two days. But knowing this could be the lead story in the morning, I call New York and tell them my time off is OFF… and to have the morning crew call me before the first broadcast on which I'm needed.

Tuesday, Feb. 5

The phone rings at 6 a.m. The voice says, "We want you to open the 7." It's the lead story. I open our hourly newscasts at 7 a.m. and 9 a.m. (I get to be the first voice out of the top of the hour tone and sounder that signal the start of the newscast.) It's the lead on the 8 a.m. World News Roundup, too, and at 9:15 a.m. I grab what I can and head to the Orange County Courthouse where Nowak is due for her first appearance. Or is it the Orange County Jail? Desk assistant Dustin finds out it is the jail and calls me moments before I am to take the State Road 408 exit that leads there.

The bad news is that I've missed the court appearance. The good news is that the hearing was available by the satellite, New York has it, and I can concentrate on what's ahead of me. And what's ahead is that Nowak will bond out on charges of attempted kidnapping, battery and more, sometime in the next few hours.

Allen Moore, an old friend, gives me some details on her overnight accommodations and periodically updates the media. A former Orlando radio reporter, it's his time in the national spotlight.

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