Out of the Newsroom

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve written here.

There are the usual reasons, all of which really just come down to the fact that sometimes, life just goes that way. Oh sure, I’ve sat down a couple of times to write something pithy about something silly.

And I just haven’t finished any writing that I have started. Because sometimes, life just goes that way.

Work has been a bit crazier than the normal. February is a particular time of stress in the TV biz. It’s winter, so the weather has been…well, winter weather. Older daughter has been snowed in at her University, which hasn’t held classes for a week. Younger daughter has been sick and pushing to get through to her break next week. (Which reminds me that I haven’t done any prep for Valentine’s Day yet, either.)

And then there was last Sunday.

It’s hard to write about Sunday, because it was one of those days where being in the news business isn’t easy. Working in a business where you routinely deal with the details of some of the worst parts of life is made a bit more palatable by the fact that you are usually dealing with stories of people that you don’t know. It makes the whole staying objective thing a good bit easier.

But sometimes in the course of covering the story, you learn the names are ones you know.

On Sunday morning, an explosion at a still-under-constuction power plant in Middletown, shook a good portion of Connecticut. Within minutes, the phones in the newsroom lit up and we began working on covering one of those stories that quickly eclipses something as ordinary as a Super Bowl Sunday. When it was over, five men working at the plant during a routine procedure were gone. One of them was Raymond Dobratz of Old Saybrook, the father of three sons. His oldest, Erik Dobratz, is our Sports Producer at WTNH.

I never had the pleasure of meeting Ray Dobratz, and from all accounts–I really wish I had. Hartford Courant sports writer Jeff Jacobs wrote a story about him that everyone should read (click this link to do so.)

But I know his son as a hard-working professional, a solid colleague–and an all around good guy.

When he was still with us, my own Dad told me that the one of the best compliments a man could get, was to just be called “a good guy.” He also thought that the best thing a father could do, was to teach his son how to be just that, a good guy.

Ray Dobratz did that for his son Erik, and now of course, Erik will do the same for his son, Keegan.

Because sometimes, no matter how unfair it seems, life just goes that way.

My thoughts and prayers are with Erik and his entire family.