Cops and Courts in Kauai

Transitioning to Kauai has been interesting to say the least.
Kauai is unique.
I’ve finally been able to settle in a comfy Kalaheo apartment, I’ve explored several beaches across the island, and I’m getting wrapped up into my beat in the newsroom.
It’s been an entire month. My sister and friend were in town to check in on me and make sure I was moving in okay.
Oh and I have a kitchen.
I haven’t had a hot dog in about three months.
Might be a record. Maybe Un-American even.

Stephen Colbert would be unimpressed.
I’m right in the middle of KPD Blue. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but so far I can say it’s an interesting thing. My editor read it first, then put it on my desk.
First few week shakes are out of me. That just means, that I met the people I needed to meet, and now I can meet the people I want to meet.
We’ve had our first murder. A lot of petty crime on this island, too. And meth.
Kauai Police don’t provide police reports or talk to media really, which is interesting.
I’ve never worked for a small town paper, so I find all the dynamics fascinating.
I’ve met an array of interesting characters here so far, from cops, attorneys, courthouse clerks, to county people and folks working on the streets. Even all the Rotary club guys are wonderful.
I find I run into to everyone more than once or twice.
I worked on this murder all week.

KPD have decided that I am a different type of reporter than they are used to.

But this murder has me thinking…

Am I numb? Or am I hiding it well?

The hardest story that I covered involved me talking to families after the DuPont chemical leak.
I cried.
Those brothers died in there, together.
The father I spoke to- he lost two sons in that leak. Two of his sons died unnecessarily after DuPont failed them.

Two other people died in that leak, too.
But it was a tragedy. And I remember I called and spoke to the families of all the victims right after it happened. Everyone was crying.
It’s hard not to cry.
I cried in Houston when Jose Meraz was machete’d to death.
When Angelina-Romero Alvarez was shot to death in a parking lot before moving into her new home with her son, I cried. That was also in Houston.
The double homicide in Conroe, I cried when I spoke to the victim’s sister.
I covered a lot of tragedy in Houston.
I didn’t shed one tear for this Lihue murder. Not one. I know it’s a tragedy, but my eyes are dry.
The only time that I got a tad upset about it was when I was talking to the mother, but every other time I was a STONE COLD HEARTLESS $%#$^
Am I already that jaded?
Have I gotten to that point where I make the obvious #journalisthumor jokes?
Maybe I need to spend more time hiking or at the beach.

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