Notable Narratives
Newspaper readers recently have been treated to three excellent narratives.
"The Long Haul," a 7-part series by AP's Sharon Cohen, recounts a Minnesota National Guard unit's 22-month deployment for training and combat in Iraq. Cohen follows several soldiers and their families as she describes the war's physical and emotional impacts. Here's a scene in which a hospitalized sergeant who lost his legs finally gets to see his sons.
Kriesel wanted to see their sons, and in time he was well enough. Katie already had conferred with a child psychologist about how to prepare them and to describe what they'd see. Elijah and Broden had never visited a hospital or been around anyone disabled.
Put one hand under your knee and one hand above the other knee, Katie told the boys. Now pretend there isn't anything below that anymore. That, she said, is what Dad is like.
When the boys arrived in the lobby, they weren't interested in hearing explanations about bandages, machines or wounds. Dad. Dad. Dad. They just want to see Dad.
As Elijah entered his father's room, Kriesel covered his amputated legs with a blanket.
"You don't have to cover up your ovals, Dad," said the boy, describing the shape of his wounds. "I'm just glad you're alive."
Brendan McCarthy, a 26-year-old police reporter at the Times-Picayune, has written a riveting 8-part series about two New Orleans detectives' attempts to solve a teen's murder, "Homicide 37: Seeking Justice for Lance." At the end of part 1, they approach a ramshackle house the boy had left just before he was shot.
Teens appear in the doorway, slam the door and scurry inside. The officers set up a perimeter around the block and wait.
Ten minutes later, several teens storm out defiantly. The detectives corral them.
A scream erupts from inside. Someone yells, "Don't do it!"
The it has detectives worried.
Pardo draws his gun. As a linebacker-size colleague crouches beside him, the detective moves onto the porch, fearing what's behind the door he's about to kick in.
Lane DeGregory's narrative, "The Girl in the Window," appeared in a single issue of the St. Petersburg Times. It's the story of a "feral child" who had spent almost her entire life in a dark closet. Here's what happened when a detective found her:
First he saw the girl's eyes: dark and wide, unfocused, unblinking. She wasn't looking at him so much as through him.
She lay on a torn, moldy mattress on the floor. She was curled on her side, long legs tucked into her emaciated chest. Her ribs and collarbone jutted out; one skinny arm was slung over her face; her black hair was matted, crawling with lice. Insect bites, rashes and sores pocked her skin. Though she looked old enough to be in school, she was naked — except for a swollen diaper.
"The pile of dirty diapers in that room must have been 4 feet high," the detective said. "The glass in the window had been broken, and that child was just lying there, surrounded by her own excrement and bugs."
When he bent to lift her, she yelped like a lamb….
http://www.examiner.com/Subject-Minnesota_National_Guard.html
http://www.nola.com/photos/t-p/index.ssf?Homicide37/Homicide37.swf
http://www.tampabay.com/specials/2008/reports/danielle/