ªMass Murder in Texas, Cafeteria Styleº The standard gripe among television viewers generally involves a couple themes: first, they inevitably ask, ªWhy are there so many commercials during newscasts?º The truth is, when it comes to local news on network affiliated stations, the ratio of commercial content versus editorial, or actual news, has been the same for many, many years: 22 minutes of content to 8 minutes of commercials within a half hour program. There was even a successful promotional campaign created years ago, built around the slogan, ªGive us 22 minutes and we'll give you the world.º The second issue that comes up frequently involves charges of so-called news ªsensationalismº connected to a nagging perception about deliberate attempts to drive higher ratings, particularly during what is commonly referred to as ªsweeps week.º That misnomer of a phrase, ªsweeps week,º is enough to make even the most seasoned broadcaster's skin crawl, as would the very idea that better ratings is some kind of a mortal sin and station executives should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves for promoting news and programming and even trying to persuade viewers to watch more. Much like monthly sales figures for retailers, tickets to the ballpark or seats in the concert hall, ratings are the single most critical metric by which broadcasters are judged. However, there is not and never has been a single week dedicated to sweeps. Today, nearly all major markets are rated daily via Nielsen Media Research's Local People Meters (LPM) which measures households as well as a number of male, female and other the demographics that watch. Years before the advent of LPMs stations were measured quarterly each year for 4 weeks at a time. These critical periods determined the winners and the losers and helped the stations, networks, advertising agencies and media buying services evaluate, calculate and set rates for commercial sales. So the very idea of being ªsensationalº for 7-days every now and then, as opposed to staying at the top of your game every, single second of the day, is far from reality. Few news events drive more television viewing (which translates directly to better ratings) then severe weather coverage or spot news, and historically few stations handled both situations better than WFAA. Former news director Marty Haag's age-old mantra, ªown the big story,º echoes through the halls to this day. The station's award winning coverage of extraordinary news stories such as the crash of Delta Flight 191 near D/FW International Airport and the dramatic 58-hour rescue of baby Jessica McClure, the Texas toddler who fell 30-feet down an 8-inch wide, cast iron abandoned water well in Midland, remain sterling examples of Haag's longstanding newsroom charge in action. However nothing epitomizes the importance of owning the big story more than the events of October 16, 1991. WFAA assistant news director Ilene Engle and I had an important lunch date that day. November sweeps, my first at the station, was less than a month away, and selfishly I wanted to set records and blow the doors off the other news stations in the market. For weeks we had been deep in planning mode, staying on top of the ABC's ever changing prime time line up and devising a strategic plan to better connect the demographics of the 9 p.m. network lead in programming with content in our 10 p.m. newscast. This was highly controversial behavior in those days, and the very idea of ªstackingº a newscast such that it would appeal to a specific demographic that may happen to be watching at any given time was simply the antithesis of good journalism. It was almost as though traditional news departments had decided, ªIf we build it, they (viewers) will certainly come!º We knew better. Executive news director John Miller was out sick that day, which would become a strangely recurrent behavioral pattern for him when big news stories would occur. It got to the point that several of us would actively encourage him to stay home in hopes of a major story breaking. But on this particular Wednesday, rather than cancel and reschedule the meeting to a time when John was feeling better, Eileen decided the two of us should bravely forge on without him. We spent an hour over lunch at the Crescent City Café in the Deep Ellum section of downtown talking about everything but sweeps, the newscast or the station. Eileen had grown up in Jasper, Alabama, not far from my hometown, and after graduating from the University of Texas in Austin joined WFAA. She had taken an extended period of time off to ªsit on the mountain top and think,º as she phrased it, and had only recently returned to work. We discovered we had all sorts of mutual friends in common, and lunch was a good time to play, ªDo you know?º When we finished, and got back to the station it was a little after 1 p.m. and we'd not even scratched the surface of what needed to be accomplished. We had a series of highly promotable, multi-part news stories already being shot, edited and scheduled to air during November sweeps. There was one on hunting exotic animals on secret Texas ranches, for example; another that looked inside the rising costs of health care; a series of reports on the ins and outs of telemarketing scams; a report on crooked chiropractors; and another the rise of area storefront medical clinics. All of the news ªspecial assignmentsº were tagged with clever animations with memorable hooks, names such as ªDoc in a Box,º ªTexas Wild,º and ªBad Backs or Big Bucksº all designed to help provide sizzle to the promotional sell. Nothing caused a bigger rift between television news and promotion departments quite like the naming of a news series. Years before joining WFAA, while still working in Atlanta, the promotion staff there dubbed a news series on breakthrough techniques used to influence unborn children, ªWomb with a View.º It took years to live that one down, particularly after a reference to it appeared in Newsweek. The news department at WFAA had certainly done its share of highly promoted stories in the past, but to a number of the hard core journalists in the station, airing a local story on medical risks associated with Prozac in the late news on the heels of a ABC News ª20/20º expose focused on controversial issues involving another medication, was far too orchestrated, manipulative and downright distasteful. But as far as the executive news director and the station's new promotion manager were concerned, this was common sense. It was unusual for anyone from news and promotion to connect, however not only were John Miller and I riding on the same train, it was headed down the track towards November sweeps with a full head of steam. ªI'm going downstairs to check on the one o'clock editorial meeting in the newsroom,º Eileen said as she left my office, ªI'll be back after that and we can sort all of the schedules out once and for all. How's that sound, Dave?º All television stations have newsroom editorial meetings two to three times a day. This is when managers listen to story pitches from reporters; make assignments based on the news of the day, and work through any scheduling conflicts with engineers, editors, photographers or other personnel. WFAA was known for its ªenterpriseº journalism, meaning the reporters were expected to come to daily editorial meetings prepared with original ideas for news stories, rather than managers assigning them. One of WFAA's best was Scott Pelley, who arrived at the morning meetings armed with a variety of story ideas each day. This was a ªreporter's shop,º and the adventurous Pelley helped set a lasting tone that other reporters would follow for years to come. He left WFAA in the late 1980s and went on to host CBS News 60 Minutes, work as the network's chief White House correspondent and even anchor on the CBS Evening News on occasion. A half an hour later Eileen still hadn't returned to my office, and I decided to head downstairs to the news department and find out what was taking her so long. I walked into a buzz saw of reporters and producers running all over the newsroom, and phones ringing off the hook in a scene reminiscent of a hectic war room. I could see news operations manager Craig Harper from across the cramped quarters of the newsroom with a focused, intense look written all over his face. ªThere's been a shooting,º Eileen told me breathlessly. ªIt's bad.º Details were sketchy but here's what she knew: a man had rammed his Ford pick up truck through a plate glass window at the front of a busy cafeteria around lunch time near the airport in Killeen, Texas, near Waco, about 2 hours or so south of Dallas. He got out of the vehicle and started shooting. The scene was total chaos, and it was unknown how many people injured. Craig had been in the afternoon editorial meeting with his colleagues when newsroom secretary Clara Sayles paged him to say that he had a phone call. ªWho is it Clara?º he exhaled impatiently, wrapped up in the details of the afternoon session. On the line was Virgil Teeter, news director at KWXT-TV, the CBS affiliate in Waco.