A Narrative

Home is only twenty blocks away.

Bullets of ice snow pelt me from above, quickly permeating my black wool coat. The streets are silent and unmoving, covered with a thick white blanket. The Capitol Building surveys the city, keeping a watchful eye on justice, never missing an oppurtunity to display greatness.

I pass a Capitol Police Officer, "Are you OK?" He asks, no doubt concerned and a little perplexed about why a young woman would be roaming the streets so alone. "I'm fine, thank you" I reply, "I think the snow is letting up a little." He chuckles and sends me on my way with a sympathetic "Stay safe".

I continue onward and somewhere in the distance, a church bell chimes off the hours. Dong dong dong dong. It's  4 o'clock in the morning.

Twelve hours earlier


The hustle bustle of the Talk Radio News Service keeps moving me from one small room to another, trying to stay out of the way. My fellow interns and I look on as the TRNS staff prepare for one of the most chaotic events of the year: the State of the Union address. Cameras, tripods, voice recorders, microphones, and laptops are strewn about in a display of organized chaos. Twelve people, continuously shift through the tiny office, making phone calls, managing radio stations, and prepping interview notes.

Within twenty minutes I am on my way to the Capitol with the other interns and our handlers, Geoff and Benny. I have a laptop in one hand, a voice recorder in the other, and my press credentials proudly displayed on my jacket. We enter the Capitol and immediately begin setting up our equipment among the sea of cameras in Statuary Hall.

Before long we are summoned to the Members Only Restaurant, a treat from our bureau chief. Once there, we dine among members of Congress from both past and present, and share a table with ex-Congressman Bob Ney.  I order Chicken and Mushrooms with Capitol Bean Soup. We are encouraged to ask Congressman Ney questions, and run the gauntlet of intern interrogation with our bureau chief. We are told whoever gets the most interviews tonight will get a $50 gift certificate. As if we needed more incentive to do try an fill the shoes of 'real reporters'.

Once finished, we make our way back through the Capitol to the Senate TV gallery to watch the speech. As I rush through an intersection of two hallways I look to my right, and next to me, wearing a shockingly blue blazer, is Hillary Clinton. The Secretary of State herself. I suppress a grin as we are swept in different directions.

At 9:45, about two-thirds through the speech, we have to make our way back to Statuary Hall, because they cut off access to that side of the building when the President is on the move, no one comes in, no one goes out. Twenty minutes pass before a swarm of representatives and senators comes flooding out of the House chambers.

The next two hours are a haze of interviews, questions, smiles, and congressmen.

When the chaos finally subsides, I reunite with my team to find out the plan for the rest of the night. I am sent to the solitary Senate Press Booth to upload audio, while the rest of the team goes back to the office to do the same thing. We upload until we have nothing left to upload. Each byte must be edited, processed, labelled (correctly) with the interviewees name and title, and published on the Talk Radio News Website.

Hours go by, interns and staff slowly finish their uploads and leave the office. I finish my uploads at the Senate booth (23 interviews!) and walk through the deserted Capitol Building, saying goodnight to the janitors as I go. I walk outside and mother-nature surprises me with a blast of snow. It wasn't even that cold earlier today. I quickly walk the six blocks to the office to drop off my Senate keys, What an awe-inspiring day of activity, excitement, learning, and anxiety. I leave the office and head back out in the snow.

Home is only twenty blocks away.