By CHRIS LENOIS

After spending a few years in public relations (what I sometimes call “the dark side”), I knew I wanted to get back into newspaper reporting. I missed having contact with the community; new assignments that bring challenges each day; and the buzz of a newsroom on deadline.

Some may have the impression that being a semi-weekly periodical, L’Observateur has a laid back atmosphere. I don’t think I had that impression on Tuesday, Feb. 19, when I arrived for my first day of work. But I honestly wouldn’t remember if I had.

I hadn’t even filled out the paperwork when I was given a story. I worked from the press releases and cold-called the necessary parties for statements (“Good morning, this is Chris Lenois from L’Observateur calling…My name is Chris…Yes, I’m new here…Chris…”) and thought I had the story pretty well in hand. We put out the Wednesday edition Tuesday morning, so I asked the editor when he needed the story completed. Deadline is right now, he told me.

In the meantime, someone I hadn’t met yet dropped a huge computer print-out on my desk. “Today’s arrest report,” he said and looking up he was already five feet past me heading in the other direction. I scanned the sheets trying to decipher their meaning, or at least what I was supposed to do with them. During the afternoon meeting, I was assigned several stories to try and complete for Saturday’s edition.

Day Two brought me my first real contact with the community. I went to East St. John High School to cover New York police officer Robert Mitchell’s visit to thank the students for the care package they had sent to him at “Ground Zero” of the World Trade Center collapse. All the area television stations and newspapers had people there, and we collectively overwhelmed the proceedings. Peals of laughter greeted Mitchell as he entered Geraldine Cox’s social studies class. It was his first face-to-face meeting with the students and he came in surrounded by an entourage of television cameras trying to get his entrance, and flashbulbs flickering around him like frantic will-o-wisps. “The Lieutenant Governor’s visit didn’t attract this much attention,” a student cried out. Mitchell described it all as “overwhelming,” but he showed the same composure, poise and grace that helped him survive that horrible day when he lost so many friends and fellow New Yorkers.

The students were equally impressive. Querying him about his feelings, his actions, his fears, and his politics. “Does anyone have any fun questions?” Mitchell asked at one point. In one-on-one interviews with the students, they were able overcome the jitters of having the spotlight put on them by so many reporters, and express the complex feelings of meeting someone who had seen such tragedy, and relate it to their own feelings on the recent tragic death of their classmate, Jim Rogers. “Tragedy can happen anywhere,” was their echoed refrain.

While at the high school, I overhead someone saying that a flood at LaPlace Elementary forced school officials to close it for the day. So when we finished with Mitchell’s visit, I dashed over there to get some photos of the damage. I silently congratulated myself when the wide-eyed secretary asked me, “How did you find out?” I spent the remainder of the afternoon getting the details and writing up the story.

I figured I’d be able to get the Mitchell stories finished by showing up early Thursday morning. I wasn’t in my seat more than five minutes on Day Three when someone in our advertising department came over to tell me, “There’s a bunch of police cars, fire trucks and ambulances parked just down the road. You might want to grab your camera and see what’s going on.” The sheriff’s deputies had traffic blocked off going both ways on Louisiana Highway 628. I had to park and hoof it about 150 yards to get near the two-car accident.

I found Lt. Rick Hylander, who heads up the traffic division for the St. John the Baptist Parish Sheriff’s Office, and introduced myself. He told me the woman at fault for the accident (who had to be taken away on a stretcher) wasn’t insured. He then told me about a checkpoint they ran the week before where they cited 10 drivers for not having insurance in less than one hour. I told him I had read that there were more than one million uninsured drivers in Louisiana. “Well, 100,000 of them must be here in LaPlace,” he joked.

Back to the car and back to the office to write up the accident and then get the Mitchell stories done. “I was just leaving you a note,” a fellow reporter said. The Troy Taylor trial was in closing remarks and I should get to the courthouse in Edgard to cover the verdict. I spent the day hearing testimony from the final witnesses, including Taylor’s and the re-direct from Sacondra Johnson, the woman he attacked and abducted. I spoke with both attorneys, piecing together the year-long litany with reports I had read in the newspaper. “How do you like our small town?” William O’Regan, the assistant District Attorney asked me with a grin.

The jury deliberated for more than three hours. At least that’s what I heard. I had to leave before they came out with the verdict to cover the St. John School Board meeting. Officer Mitchell was there receiving a special commendation, and representatives from each fire department as well as the sheriff’s office were honored as well. I spotted Lt. Hylander in his full-dress uniform and blinked in astonishment that I began my day speaking with him on the side of the road some 12 hours ago.

It was after 9 p.m. when I got back to the office. Everyone had gone home, and I hadn’t yet had a chance to get a key. I still hadn’t written word one of the Mitchell stories from Wednesday, much less the three events I covered that day, and I had less than hours before the Friday deadline for the Saturday edition to write 10 stories.

And I did it. People I needed to follow up with on the phone remembered me, returned my calls and were generous with their time. I thought about what O’Regan asked me and decided I liked this “small town” just fine. The buzz was on.

CHRISTOPHER LENOIS is a staff reporter for L’Observateur. He may be reached at (985) 652-9545.