Firebugs

Lately I've been lazy. Weimer Hall veterans tell countless stories about how they covered hurricanes or the fires of '98. Those tales, about ambitious college photojournalists who load the car with supplies and chase after the big story, have motivated me over the last few years. So far, I can only tell one, and it didn't end up so well. After Katrina hit New Orleans, I decided I would cover the next big storm to hit Florida.

So when Rita came, I gassed up the Toyota and arranged to stay with a news buddy in Ft. Meyers. The storm came through overnight. Around 10 a.m. I headed to Naples with my girlfriend Kristen, who is also a photojournalist, to cover the storm's aftermath.

We got some nice pictures and then I made a mistake. The Toyota is not a boat, but I sure tried to make it one. I flooded the engine near the beach when the water level reached about 15 inches. Ooops. Grandad came to save me, the truck eventually re-fired, and I learned my lesson.

Since that fall day in 2005, I have covered several big stories, but no fires or natural disasters.

Until yesterday.

Sun reporter Jack Stripling and I headed north to Waycross, Ga., to report on the slowly-expanding two-week-old fires there. More than 100 square miles have burned. When the wind shifts south, the smoke settles in over north Florida.

We met up with Travis Dugger and other personnel from the Florida Division of Forestry. Clad in green nomex pants and bright yellow fire-retardent long sleeve shirts, we didn't see much fire. We sure did look the part, though.

Maybe wildfire photojournalism is in my future?

On a side note, our media cadre included a reporter for CNN Radio. I enjoyed listening to him describe the scene into his audio recorder as the chopper rumbled and the dozers squeaked. It takes talent to tell a story for radio.