You ever feel a little like this when you come back from vacation?

First, it was the balloon boy.

Half of Colorado was desperately trying to rescue what they thought was a child in a helium-filled balloon.  And half of the word was watching it on television.

It was big, fat fake.  A mother and father were longing for a gig on a reality television show, they cooked up a hoax that could have ended in some emergency crews killed.  Helicopters were dispatched to watch the odd-looking contraption as it sailed across the state.  Fire and rescue personnel were following it on the ground.  Thousands and thousands of dollars were spent… dollars intended to go towards real rescues.

Instead, it was just a big false alarm.  And it took the innocent statement of a child to bring it into the open.

Now…a slap on the wrist, and I predict the wing-nut parents will be back at it very soon…trying to blaze their way to fame, 2009 style.

And on top of that we learn a couple bluffed their way into a White House function.  They were being followed by some reality television crew.

First, how in the word did they manage to con their way into the White House?  I have been to a function at the White House, and I had to be checked six-ways-to-Sunday before I was escorted into The State Room.  The security checks were just short of a body cavity search- and this was before the  September 11th terror attacks.

First, who’s minding the door at The White House?   Moe, Larry, and Curley?

Second, you have to be either deranged , or have criminal intent to pull off a stunt.    So far as I can tell, these two nincompoops also had some kind of idea about being on television.

The only thing I can figure is that the lure of big money, and the addiction to public attention is so great with some people, they are willing to do anything to attain one or the other.

That’s not funny.  That’s not amusing.   It’s twisted.

Is it a disease that welled up inside these people and ate away their core or sensibility and responsibility?  Or did they catch it from watching so many other people who are willing to bare it all on television?

You tell me.

Either way… it makes me sick, too.

Reality shows are cheap to produce.  You don’t need a lot of production people, or a set, or writers…or a lot of other stuff…  just a couple of cameras and some editors and post production people.   The biggest budget saver is the fact that you don’t need performers.

It seems there are some people willing to audition for the gigs at the expense of decency and security.

And if these bad actors are not hammered by prosecutors right now…there are plenty more of them cooking up their own scripts for auditions right now.

It was the first time in my life I had ever heard the phrase “calling all cars”  on the police radio.  Every available officer was called to The Atlanta Federal Prison on November 13th, 1987.

Cuban prisoners were rioting at the prison.  More than a hundred hostages were taken, and the place was nearly destroyed by fire.  It remains one of the strangest, most surreal sights I have experienced.  A structure fire right in the middle of a city, but the only way firefighters could battle it was to drop water from helicopters.  Here’s how it looked that night:

We were expecting trouble at the prison since word came from The White House that the Federal Government intended to return some of the prisoners who fled Cuba during the Mariel Boat-lift.  Some of these guys were hard-core thugs who were more than willing to do violence.

The FBI hostage experts were called.  Military helicopters and other forces were brought in, but the names of the branch of Military Service was taped over on the sides of the helicopters.

The first thing I did at the assignment desk at WSB Radio was to alert the whole newsroom to what was happening, and get the story on-the-air.   Then, within the hour, I had called up our helicopter service, made arrangements to meet the pilot and aircraft at the heli pad behind the station, and flew as close as possible to the prison.  We were there for around an hour before the Federal Aviation Adminstration clamped a no-fly zone over the entire area.

Back at the station, Chris Davala and I loaded up in one of the news trucks and headed to the scene.   WSB was still reacting to the story quickly, and we managed to get a good parking spot right in front of the prison, thanks to the manager of a Church’s Fried Chicken.  We would not move that truck for days.  Instead, we ran the engine as little as possible, while Assistant Program Director Rick Shaw hauled cans of gasoline to us.

In the initial hours of the crisis, we had a scanner that could pick up the walkie-talkies inside the prison.  I enlisted a Cuban fellow who could translate for us.  It was not information we could use on-the-air without substantiation from another source, but it sure was interesting to listen in.   Sometime during the second or third day, The FBI arrived with a couple of trucks.  One had some radio equipment that jammed the prison’s radios.   We also had suspicions the feds were listening in on our two-way radios to see if there was a security breach or leak of information.

That night, Eldrin Bell with Atlanta Police, David Chamberlain, the Fire Chief, and several other officials held a news briefing right in the middle of McDonough Boulevard near Boulevard.  I was there, holding my WSB microphone toward the speakers.  At the same time, a drunk had wandered into the scrum of reporters and photographers and was cursing loudly.  For some reason, he got right behind me and started cussing and poking me in the back of the head.  I am normally a peaceful person and would never think of striking a stranger… but I had had enough.  I hauled back to poke the cussin’ drunk, and something stopped my arm in mid-swing.  It was the hand of a photographer for Channel Eleven, who quietly said  ”It’s not worth it, Dave”.    The drunk was eventually hauled away from the area…but not before he got several more verbal insults into the air, and probably on video and audio tape, too.

After a day or so of continuous broadcasting, WSB fell into a routine of updates and a regular schedule of reporters at the scene on twelve-hour shifts.  There comes a point when everybody who can be interviewed - has been interviewed.  You have to learn when you have reached that point, when to stop the repetition, and stand-by for new information….new information…as in news.

Thanksgiving Day,  Ed McConnell, one of the best radio dispatchers ever..and one of the best friends a person could have…came to the scene to spend some time.  His little boy, Ike was with him.  Ike is now a big cheese in the Henry County, Georgia Fire Department.  The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree in the McConnell family.   Sitting there, watching the events unfold was a strange counter-beat to the regular Thanksgiving we knew.  It felt odd to come home to normalcy after covering the bedlam for hours.

The seige lasted for days…into Thanksgiving and beyond. One Cuban prisoner was shot to death by a correctional officer.  When the take-over was winding to a close, WSB Radio went back into full-time coverage from the scene…again until all of the news sources had been tapped, and witnesses, family members, and officials had been interviewed.

I still have a t-shirt that commemorates the incident.  Somebody had them printed to make some money for a charity.  It reads ” I WAS HELD HOSTAGE AT ATLANTA FEDERAL PRISON 11/13/87″.

Just the other day, Ed  McConnell and I were talking about that strange Thanksgiving.

It was a day when I was most thankful for a friend who took time away from his family to keep his friend company.

I am not the person to ask about shopping on the day after Thanksgiving.  Most of my gift purchases are made on the Internet.

The worst thing that I might have to  endure shopping for Christmas presents would be a sore index finger from clicking.

That, and a sore bank account.

The Missus also likes to Internet shop, and she’s very good at it.

Once, because of a twitch in her finger, she bought two of those special brooms featured on television- you know, the ones sold by that British fellow.  They came with a lifetime guarantee.   We don’t talk about that purchase around the house.

Our home  was also one of the first to use that orange cleaner stuff.  It came to the house in large boxes full of different  goop for different surfaces.  Our house smelled like an orange processing plant.

I’m an active E-bay buyer.  And I’m pleased to report that my experience on E-bay has been great. Recently, I bought a winter jacket.  It was shipped to the wrong person.  Instead of the jacket, I got a Brooks Brothers sweater.  It was nice, but it was small enough for one of Santa’s elves.  After a trans-continental trip, the jacket arrived.  The sweater was also re-routed through the mail to its owner.  No sweat, no trouble, and no frayed nerves waiting in the return line.

If you know how to work it, you can get most of your shopping done on-line.

But there’s one place I hope you’ll visit Friday.  WNOX has teamed with Toys For Tots to fill a large military truck.  We will broadcast all day at the Toys ‘R Us on Kingston Pike near Winston Road. Please, if you can , bring an unwrapped new toy for the Marine Corps effort.  I’ll be at the store from two until four Friday afternoon, spending some vacation time for the cause.  Not everybody who donated last year can do so this year, so those of us who can need to step up to help needy children.  I hope to see you there, and shake your hand.

And for you combat shoppers,  my friends at Channel Eight Volunteer TV have organized a page devoted to shopping with a list of store hours.   Here’s the link.

I would normally publish a list of my sizes for your gift  buying consideration… but instead… spend the money on a new, unwrapped toy, and bring it by Toys ‘R Us on Kingston Pike Friday.

After a lot of time and money spent trying to pry open government files on a purported UFO, it appears we are no closer to an answer.  One thing this new report indicates: whatever landed in

Kecksburg, Pennsylvania was not ours, or the Soviet Union’s.   Read here.

Here’s a link to another story about the mystery.

And finally, a Wikipedia reference to the incident.

It seems to be one of those “things” that a lot of people witnessed.   But so far, nobody seems able to tell them what it was that they saw.

Strange…

Here’s a great video from Canada concerning Remembrance Day

At the risk of sounding a little geezological- I can remember some National Geographic issues with the pages cut out because of the photos.  Read here.

Years ago, reporting on earthquakes was a fairly slow process of telephone calls to places that had seismic equipment, such as colleges or universities, or the USGS.  Like so many other information sources, the data is now at our fingertips.  So here’s a way you can get the inside scoop for yourself:     USGS

(edited version- thanks to a reader and museum official  And I will be visiting soon. )

It was a beautiful day to do some work outside.  There was a huge pile of brush that I needed to clear, and it was just warm enough to drag out the garden hose and do some scrubbing.

Remember, this is not subdivision work.  Our home is in the country and it’s quiet.  The only background sounds you normally hear is the occasional bellow of a bull, or “moo” from a cow.  The crows and other birds keep background music.  There’s the occasional plane..usually a Cessna  or other small craft enjoying the beautiful weather and scenery of  East Tennessee.

Not today.

I heard her long before I saw her.

A North American T6 Texan flew across the sky from southeast to northwest.  The plane was used as an advanced trainer, and in some rare cases, an attack aircraft.

The plane was one of those you can see at  the Tennessee Museum Of Aviation.

I love the Thunderbolts they have there.  The P47 is not  the prettiest plane in the museum, but it might be the toughest.  The P-51 Mustang has sleek looks, and it’s fast..and it, along with the “Jug” were “little friends” as the bomber crews called them when they escorted the perilous missions over Europe.

I watched it the Texan until it was out of sight.  I don’t know for sure where it was headed, or even it’s origin.

But I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who heard it, saw it, and remembered what its original pilots did  to keep my freedom.

And your’s too.

Here’s a good take-off video

And again- thanks for the update, Lana.  I appreciate it.

Thanks to the person who sent these striking photos of an ASA/Delta airliner.  The photo was captioned for April of this year.