He’s dead

On Sunday I encountered something I never thought I would face. Telling someone I’d never met that a person they love has died.

I thought that was the police officer’s role, someone else’s role, not the journalist’s. I know people may hear it on the radio for the first time. But the walls of the radio booth provide a security net. You sometimes forget how much the news might impact someone. Most times people who are very close to the deceased already know.

Not Sunday.

A woman called the newsroom, asking for an update on a story of a young man who had capsized in a boat. They hadn’t been able to find his body. They were close friends, but she didn’t want to call the family to see if he was dead. Her voice was cracking as she talked.

She said if the young man was dead, her daughter was going to fly to see the family.

I didn’t have an updated report, but here was a woman, waiting for me to give her an answer so she could move forward with her life.

After having my phone call transferred several times and playing the waiting game, I finally connected with the person I needed to talk to.

I found out the young man was dead. How do you tell someone that?

Nothing in journalism school prepares you to deal with death like that. You’re taught to take photos at accidents, speak with victims, be sensitive to those who are affected. You’re not taught how to tell someone directly that their friend has died. How do you do that?

She sounded even more emotional when she picked up the phone than when she had called earlier. I didn’t know what to say, so after a too-cheerful hello and recapping her question, I just told her. “The young man is dead.” Then I told her the story was on the news. I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t ask questions, soften the blow, comfort her. Nothing. He’s dead.

When I hung up, I continued my duties around the newsroom. I felt so cold, heartless. Was I really human? Do people ever get used to doing something like that? Did I help her, or make her pain worse?

One of my duties is to inform people, and sometimes that means printing stories on death and tragedy that are difficult to write. But sorting out my position in this role was different.

It’s two days later, and I’m still not sure what to think, but to the considerate woman who called the newsroom to avoid hurting her friends with the dreaded question, may you find comfort and be surrounded by many friends to help you through this difficult time.

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