I had one of those moments the other day when a light flashes inside your mind alerting you that an observation is about to bubble to the surface of your conscious thinking.
Lori and I were watching the TV news as we prepared to leave our house and go to work for the day.
The news show shared a report about a tornado strike somewhere in Alabama. The TV screen displayed images of a neighborhood that had been destroyed by the tornado. Houses were flattened and debris from the homes was scattered everywhere.
I said to Lori, "Look at that debris field. Things are scattered everywhere."
A moment later the host said something about the tornado creating a debris field more than a mile wide. I congratulated myself on being first with the observation and for using nearly the same jargon — debris field — as the show's host.
Yes, I thought to myself, years of watching the weather segment on TV news shows had paid a dividend. I can now speak in the same terms as the anchor on the cable network TV news program, but I can do it slightly faster. This seemed important to me at that moment
The news report about the tornado strike continued, with more video images of the storm's destruction. I was only half listening to what was being said. Then I heard the host say, "and a 16-year-old girl was killed by the tornado."
The news report about the tornado strike continued, with more video images of the storm's destruction. I was only half listening to what was being said. Then I heard the host say, "and a 16-year-old girl was killed by the tornado."
Then the video images of the destruction stopped. The host introduced a different story, and a new set of images was displayed. It was at that moment that the warning light began flashing inside my head.
Wait a minute, I thought. The report about the tornado strike took up a fair amount of time by TV's standards. The images showed some serious damage, but the most important detail — a young girl was killed in the incident — was left until the end of the report. No details were offered about the victim or her family and then the show abruptly jumped to another story.
Inadequate reporting? Yes, I think so, but it occurred to me that what I had just watched is a bit symbolic of our age.
We have technology that can inform us, engage us and keep us connected to each other. It can enlighten, entertain and educate. It can condition a moderately intelligent person to view a few images of a tornado's aftermath and identify the destruction as a debris field.
That same technology can numb, desensitize and distract. It can condition us to focus on dramatic images, to concentrate our attention on smashed homes and scattered possesions. It can make the destruction of material objects seem more important the loss of a life.
We count the number of structures that were flattened, and our minds calculate the number of TVs crushed, cars damaged and sofas smashed. All of these items have value, each item is important to the individual owners.
If asked, however, each of us would say that all our material items combined would not equal the value we place on one of our loved ones. Yet, too often we tend to forget the value of an individual life.
If the death toll in the tornado striek was higher, say maybe 100 killed, that would have been in the opening of the news report, friends have told me.
True, but it also affirms my point — the loss of one life doesn't touch as deeply as the loss of many lives, the one isn't as newsworthy as the 100.
Show us images of smashed houses and damaged cars — we might empathize with the owners. Tell us a child is dead, and we shrug it off as just an unfortunate fact.
But in that one debris field, in the wake of that one tornado, in with the variety of items that were blown out of the homes by the powerful winds, searchers recovered the body of a teenage girl. Amidst the scattered photographs, furniture, kitchen utensils, cell phones, laptops and DVRs was a mother's child.
A tornado killed a young girl last week, and it says much about our society that a report of her death focused on the material items destroyed in the incident, saving only a single sentence at the end of the story to tell us of her passing.
She deserved better, and so do we.
Inadequate reporting? Yes, I think so, but it occurred to me that what I had just watched is a bit symbolic of our age.
We have technology that can inform us, engage us and keep us connected to each other. It can enlighten, entertain and educate. It can condition a moderately intelligent person to view a few images of a tornado's aftermath and identify the destruction as a debris field.
That same technology can numb, desensitize and distract. It can condition us to focus on dramatic images, to concentrate our attention on smashed homes and scattered possesions. It can make the destruction of material objects seem more important the loss of a life.
We count the number of structures that were flattened, and our minds calculate the number of TVs crushed, cars damaged and sofas smashed. All of these items have value, each item is important to the individual owners.
If asked, however, each of us would say that all our material items combined would not equal the value we place on one of our loved ones. Yet, too often we tend to forget the value of an individual life.
If the death toll in the tornado striek was higher, say maybe 100 killed, that would have been in the opening of the news report, friends have told me.
True, but it also affirms my point — the loss of one life doesn't touch as deeply as the loss of many lives, the one isn't as newsworthy as the 100.
Show us images of smashed houses and damaged cars — we might empathize with the owners. Tell us a child is dead, and we shrug it off as just an unfortunate fact.
But in that one debris field, in the wake of that one tornado, in with the variety of items that were blown out of the homes by the powerful winds, searchers recovered the body of a teenage girl. Amidst the scattered photographs, furniture, kitchen utensils, cell phones, laptops and DVRs was a mother's child.
A tornado killed a young girl last week, and it says much about our society that a report of her death focused on the material items destroyed in the incident, saving only a single sentence at the end of the story to tell us of her passing.
She deserved better, and so do we.
