It ends where it all began

As a great deal of my friends from the Hall know, my interest in the University began because of men’s basketball, family, and WSOU.

The Continental Airlines Arena, now the IZOD Center, in East Rutherford.

During my childhood, my uncle, an alum from the early 90s, and my grandfather held season tickets for Seton Hall Pirates hoops at the Continental Airlines Arena for as long as I can remember. The early association between me and them was pretty mild – after some games, there would be a promotion for a free bag of potato chips upon exit of the arena. Often, those ended up in my lunchbox as I went to school the next day.

However, as I got older and more sports-inclined, I began to attend some games with them. I can still remember the first – a down-to-the-wire thriller with Villanova that Seton Hall somehow escaped with a win. If memory serves, this was the spring of 2004.

By my junior year of high school, I went with my uncle and grandfather to every game – as an unofficial season ticket holder. I brought my high school ID and purchased a discounted ticket for every home game directly at the box office. As my funds dried up (I part-time tutored in high school) and it seemed my time at the games was ending, my uncle came to the rescue on Christmas – with a gift certificate for the Meadowlands that “coincidentally” covered the cost of the rest of the season’s tickets.

It was these experiences that turned me on to Hall Line on WSOU. Between those heated post-game shows and listening to some road games, I knew that I wanted to be on the airwaves of 89.5 FM one day. The rest, well, is history.

When I enrolled my freshman year, the team moved from the arena in East Rutherford to Newark’s Prudential Center. And, my grandfather “retired” from attending the games. It was a tough moment for the family (…and it can be the topic of another post), but it forged a new era of Pirates hoops for me. I went with my uncle on most nights while beginning my careers at WSOU and The Setonian. Soon enough, I was at every game with a suit and a credential dangling around my neck. My uncle, meanwhile, married and now sits courtside at each game with his wife, my aunt.

This chronology dawned on me this week, as the reality hit that Monday is Commencement for the University. It’s held at the IZOD Center, the former Continental Airlines Arena – and, for me, is a trip back to where my association with Seton Hall began.

From my seat on the floor, I’ll likely glance up at Section 212, where a much-younger me sat between my uncle and my grandfather. The memories are so vivid still, it’s incredible. I can recall games by their end result, reactions from my family during those critical Big East battles, even the fact that my grandpa snuck in a sandwich to munch on during halftime.

Commencement offers enough reason to be nostalgic and reflective of the last four years. For me, though, it’s got a bit extra behind it. My time at the Hall… it ends where it all began.

BMW

A name, by any other generic name, is not as sweet

Upon arriving home at a late hour this week, I flipped through my mail to find two items from Seton Hall. These took priority over the rest of the bills and circulars in the pile. One was a reimbursement check from travel for Setonian business, which was much appreciated for my forthcoming credit card bill. The other was a letter – in an envelope from the College of Education.

As a Communications student, anything outside the College of Arts and Sciences is somewhat intriguing to me. That is, until I read the first two words:

“Dear Senior,”

About 10 seconds later, the letter was ripped in two pieces and in my trash bin.

Seton Hall – you’re killing me here. Maybe I’m asking for too much, but is it that hard to generate a “Dear Brian” at the top of that letter? You needed to get my info to label the envelope after all.

I saw a similar letter from Athletics a few weeks ago, which opened “Dear Pirates fan” and closed with the signature of “Seton Hall Athletic Ticket Office” (or something to that effect – my memory isn’t exactly crystal clear). If I was a donor to Pirate Blue or simply a season ticket holder, I wouldn’t exactly be feeling the sense of family that the basketball program provides for the University’s community from that correspondence.

Taking some extra time in outreach is so crucial – and something I would argue Seton Hall does quite poorly. And, I don’t care if “that’s how they do it everywhere else.” If some dopey Mastercard offer or junk mail from Comcast can slip my name into a greeting, then so can my University.

Then, perhaps I could have written about the content of the letter itself.

BMW

What keeps me from this blog…

I suppose this link will help.

My kudos to all of The Setonian’s winners. I am fortunate to have tremendous colleagues this year, let alone every year that I’ve worked with the newspaper.

A great series of honors on the road to graduation.

BMW

Working together

A quick shout-out for today goes to the Department of Public Safety and Security, under the direction of Pat Linfante and Gary Christie.

It’s no secret that safety at Seton Hall has been a backdrop for the entire academic year to date. From the shooting death of a student in a nearby town to the “false assault” incident, it’s been more than the usual gamut of muggings and robberies.

I don’t envy the jobs that Linfante and Christie hold, as it must be quite difficult to answer to students, their parents, community members and administrators – and, finally, the media.

As part of the student media, our relationship with Public Safety reflects this difficulty – it’s a tense, sometimes frustrating association. I would argue this is true on both sides, just the “nature of the beast.”

But yesterday and today, after an armed robbery that The Setonian covered on A-1, Linfante and Christie have been nothing but open and forthcoming.

It has enabled The Setonian.com to publish a screenshot of the suspects and provide readers with the latest details available, even the specifics behind the timeliness of the Pirate Alert warning (something many students were annoyed with).

It’s so refreshing to be able to write this because, when everyone at the Hall works together, the best truly is offered for the University community.

BMW

What I’m reading today

Some plugging – unsolicited at that – for my colleague Nick Parco and his excellent column in today’s edition of The Setonian.

Follow this link to read “Universities should provide safe housing environments for Greek life.”

BMW

The rise and fall of the blog?

So, this isn’t that Seton Hall-related, but instead a very interesting point brought up in a class of mine this week.

It seems that interest in blogging is in decline for most teens and young adults. Now, at 22, I find myself slightly above that characterization. Still, the consistency of blogging has been a major issue right here.

In fact, the line “add blog entry” has been on my desktop Post-It note for the longest time, only behind “Sign up for AAA car service” in PC reminder longevity (that line debuted after an unexpected flat tire, and I’ll likely be sorry if I don’t act on it by my next flat).

Here’s another attempt to resurrect HZR, as we have a semester in full swing that’s going much better. Dr. Esteban is permanent president, the University just today announced it has an AD, and I couldn’t be much happier with the work of WSOU-FM and The Setonian.

So, without further adieu, let’s begin the ultimate test of the rise and fall of blogging – for me. Because even though I’ve contemplated changing blog topics, this really is where my opinions are the strongest on a weekly basis – around the Hall.

BMW

A true “no title” entry

There’s really no rhyme or reason to this post. In fact, there hasn’t been rhyme or reason much to this blog either.

It’s been awhile…again, which is part of my prompt to author another entry.

However, there’s also a lot to digest as December hits the calendar.

The HZR-typical article would be about how Seton Hall is a peaceful, spirited place around Christmastime – which, for a school with classes ending in two weeks, is now. However, I’m turning in the other direction.

This semester, there’s been a number of hard-hitting, draining news stories. From the Jessica Moore tragedy to the latest “it happened/no it didn’t/maybe it did” runaround with the sexual assault (originally announced as occurring on the campus), I find myself out of breath as the fall winds down.

Also, Seton Hall is still without a firm president (though the perfect fit seems obviously clear), the bad press for the University appears prevalent, and, to top it off, the best player for the men’s basketball team is out.

Call me a cynic, a Scrooge (hey, it’s that time), or whatever. But it’s difficult to find much to be cheery about on this blog right now.

I’m sure other personal influences are also at play regarding my demeanor. Nevertheless, the aspect of “break” in “winter break” may be the best remedy for me after leaving HZR vacant since. Oct. 25.

BMW

Caf control at the Hall

So it’s been awhile, but I think I’ve finally found an issue that’s burned me up to the point of a blog post.

On Mondays and Wednesdays, I join my girlfriend in the Caf to grab some lunch. With our hectic schedules, it’s nice to have this opportunity twice a week. From the fiscal standpoint, the meals don’t cost me anything as she “swipes” me into the buffet area of the Caf – using her meal plan on her ID card.

As a commuter, I choose not to have a meal plan.Now, I can’t imagine that my situation is too unique.

As far as our relationship goes, the lunch that she “pays for” via the meal plan becomes equalized by having dinner that, say, I cook in my apartment. It’s a good move so that she’s not wasting or over-using her designated Caf meals and I’m saving some money.

That is, until now. When – in the middle of the semester – the Caf buffet area has decided to not allow meal plan holders to use their meals on friends, family, or loved ones. Instead of using an extra meal from a typically exorbitant amount of meals allocated for a semester, plan holders must use a “guest meal.” These, by contrary, are set aside for guests – and only amount to a few meals for the semester, say 5-10.

Rather than using a meal plan that tuition is paying for as they wish, my girlfriend and many SHU students are locked into abiding by the new rule: only meal plan holders can use regular meals.

I’ve got issues with this on three levels:

- The logistics: a student should be allowed to use their meals as they see fit. If this means using extras during the week because they go home on the weekends, that’s their option. It’s their money that funds the plan!

- The reasoning given: otherwise known as none. There’s no explanation, other than a sign of the policy change by Caf registers and attendants that have no answer to offer inquiring minds.

- The timing: a change mid-semester? Look, if this is a new policy that the University feels is necessary, so be it. Give students the option at the start of a semester – when they can switch, cancel, or purchase a different meal plan. It’s not right to switch things up without prior notice.

We’ll see if anything changes soon. Most students that I’ve chatted with about the new policy aren’t pleased. And, for many, their arguments against the move echo the three points I highlighted above.

BMW

Surreal Saturday (Part three)

Yesterday’s on-campus (second) prayer vigil was, to an extent, closure to the unfortunate shooting incident that took the life of Jessica Moore.

(Story on the vigil: http://www.thesetonian.com/news/prayer-service-held-for-shooting-victims-1.1670690)

It was also the type of moment that I waited for to add this final chapter to my series giving insight to that fateful Saturday. – BMW

—— Upon hearing that Moore had passed away – on that “surreal Saturday,” my gut feeling told me to confirm it, first. The absolute worst thing to do would be publication of a student’s death prematurely, considering it was feasible that her extended family and friends were regularly following The Setonian.com.

We had a source in the hospital with Moore who let us know; that was where my colleagues heard of the news. Facebook seemed to confirm, as many R.I.P. messages poured onto Moore’s personal page.

Still not 100 percent sure what the student journalist/editor etiquette was here, I mulled over making the “announcement” on our Web site. The story update of her passing was ready, as was the “tweet” to send along – frankly, I was stalling for a minute or two.

Then, a concise but powerful e-mail was sent along to me.

In all of the media sharing for the day – including forwards of my team’s work to outlets like CNN and NBC – I had made a connection with a hyperlocal Web site, South Orange Patch. I used to freelance pretty regularly for the site and was glad that we could team up – as my team was informing Seton Hall about the incident and Patch was catching up the Village about what had happened.

The e-mail was a forward from a spokeswoman from the Essex County Prosecutor’s Office. I had been trying all day to get on her e-mail list, but the afternoon’s chaos plus it being a Saturday hurt those chances. The e-mail’s body simply confirmed Moore’s death and said a statement would be forthcoming from law enforcement authorities.

Less than a minute later, The Setonian’s update was live.

I stepped aside after, texting some additional editors of mine to fill them in. After catching my breath and wondering what was next, I poured a drink and tried to engage in my normal Saturday routine – sitting on my couch with my girlfriend, relaxing and enjoying my sole day off.

It was getting close to 5 p.m. by this point, and my phone kept ringing with friends from Seton Hall and back home seeking information – likely because they heard about the fatal shooting on the news elsewhere. My father even called to make sure I was safe; the call was brief, as I wanted to keep my cell phone line open.

During a short intermission of incoming calls and texts, I gave a ring to a University official seeking some comment or confirmation by the school about Moore’s passing.

I was forwarded instead to a 6:15 p.m. press conference in town – outside the off-campus Ring Building – where interim University President Dr. Gabriel Esteban would address the media. Even though I wasn’t invited prior to hearing it from that particular administrator, at least one news outlet e-mailed me about the presser (figuring that informing the student media wasn’t the focal point of media relations at that time).

There, I was severely caught off-guard by the raw emotion of Esteban. He was shaken, holding back tears, all while admitting, as a father with a daughter who attends the University, that Moore’s death was stunning. Still, when on-camera with NBC and ABC, he appeared as a leader determined to move his campus community forward. That night’s prayer service was announced by Esteban as well, though it was broadcast earlier to the campus by e-mail, and it was clear that the event was closed to the media.

…and much will be made of Esteban, I’m sure, in this blog and other outlets regarding how he handled this tragedy. Let me be the first to say – at that moment, that presser – I was convinced that this is the man Seton Hall needs as a permanent leader. His genuine compassion and love for the University shone through that afternoon and was one of the more memorable moments for me, as a reporter, during the entire story.

I rushed home around 7 p.m. to polish off the Esteban reaction and the official announcement of the prayer service. Key to the story was one of the more intriguing accounts of the shooting – brought to me by a student, Derel Stroud. He was the one who had e-mailed me hours after the shooting and took an entire day to track down.

(Story link at The Setonian.com: http://www.thesetonian.com/news/shooting-death-draws-strong-emotions-across-campus-1.1647455)

The short end of it is that Stroud was dropping two individuals off at the party, saw the gun handoff between the two alleged criminals, and drove about 15 students away from the party and to safety on the campus. He’s a hero in my mind, someone who not only reacted in the face of chaos, but also had the courage to share details about what he saw with me.

Some of these details from Stroud, including the chilling remark allegedly between the two involved regarding the gun exchange (“give me the banger”) were used on NBC’s local newscast – provided by me. Hey, I have a bit of brand loyalty as per my internship, and even served as a short interviewee about the prayer vigil for their 11 p.m. news story.

Meanwhile, my print story, with Esteban’s heartfelt remarks and Stroud’s account, provided much depth to the entire coverage all day. I modified The Setonian.com’s layout to focus on the shooting and the five-or-six stories we had filed, contemplated eating dinner, and later checked the clock to see it was getting close to 8 p.m. It was almost time for the prayer vigil.

Much credit yet again goes to News Editor Jessica Sutcliffe and Managing Editor Nick Parco for meeting me on campus prior to the 9 p.m. service. We discussed the day’s emotional toll and planned basic coverage for this vigil. My ideas were surprisingly clear in my head: no cameras, no video, and slim details.

This was an event for the community, and even our coverage of this no-media vigil would reach the entire New York media market. I was even working with The New York Times – seeking one of our photos for print – by BlackBerry e-mail while sitting in the Main Lounge (site of the vigil) before it began.

There was no time to process what had happened, nor the grief of my peers, as a student. It just didn’t happen. As a reporter, you get sucked into a story. Even when it hits home, emotions and personal feeling take a back seat.

We (Sutcliffe, Parco and I) opted to share coverage of the vigil event. I scribbled notes on scraps on paper in my dress shirt pocket to write the brief immediately after it ended. Meanwhile, Sutcliffe and Parco took off in search of attendants who might speak to us.

(Story on The Setonian.com: http://www.thesetonian.com/news/prayer-service-brings-campus-community-together-1.1647495)

While leaving the packed vigil, I could hear significant crying from close friends of Moore sitting in the front row. It is as vivid of a sound in my mind as any I’ve experienced as a reporter.

With a brief of the vigil up online, and a check of other local media’s Web sites, I offered my short interview to NBC for their local newscast (had to meet them off-campus, with no media allowed at or near the vigil) and walked back. It was likely around 10 p.m. and I texted my girlfriend to finally say, “let’s go home.”

We spotted each other in the Xavier Hall parking lot, close to Duffy Hall. As we walked together, I turned to my left and spotted a car dimly lit by the orange glow of the University’s parking lot street lamps.

On the back windshield, with that soap/marker substance that can be used for temporary messages on cars (I think of it in relation to graduation messages from high school, personally), it read “There’s always (sun) in Tennessee.”

The sun was drawn on the windshield.

I had learned from Stroud during our interview over the phone – and heard at the prayer vigil – that Moore’s nickname was Tennessee, the state she was born in.

I snapped a photo quickly on my phone, and repeated, “now, let’s go home.”

And, just a few hours shy of the 24-hour mark from when I stood in East Orange with my FlipCam, it was time to settle down. After planning an emergency meeting of The Setonian’s Editorial Board for the next day, my girlfriend and I ordered Chinese food, watched the local news coverage of the day, and called it a night.

Even as I shut off my laptop and placed my phone on silent mode for some much-needed sleep, the phrase “There’s always sun in Tennessee” stuck with me. It still does.

BMW

Brian Wisowaty covered the tragic shooting incident in East Orange for The Setonian.com. Please visit The Setonian.com for full stories, recaps, and reaction pieces.

This is the third and final piece in the series.

Surreal Saturday (Part two)

To the best of my memory, 9:30 a.m. was when my phone went off for the first time. It was a call from my News Editor, Jessica Sutcliffe, with a significant update. CBS New York had an online post – with a photo of the crime scene – that five were shot at our “incident near Newark” filmed just hours earlier, one listed in critical condition. Rumors were also picking up, I would soon learn, as text message upon text message filled my inbox.

The difference of just a few morning hours was easy to tell – by daybreak, the tips and leads to this story seemed to overlap and corroborate. Now, if one person said that three of the five victims were Seton Hall students, there would be a handful of people to back it up. That detail, for example, we would soon confirm as true.

Things simply were clearer, which was great as a reporter but not so much as a Seton Hall student.

After checking out NJ.com’s version of the story, the situation became a bit self-centered. Their site – the Web site of The (Newark) Star-Ledger – had grabbed my video footage from the night before! This was done in complete fairness, as I had posted the videos on our (The Setonian’s) YouTube channel account.

Looking back at the rest of the New York media that was on the story, it was clear that my team and I had broke the story first. Sourcing back to “The Setonian” or “the Seton Hall campus newspaper” was prevalent – and our Web site’s hits reflected it. Just prior to 12 noon, we had more hits than the previous few days – and we were quickly elapsing the 5,000 hit mark, a typical week’s high.

I called three close journalism mentors of mine to talk through this situation, get advise, brag a bit that we broke it first, and to talk through my game plan. I got around to my e-mail not too long after updating our Web site.
Then, the runaround began.

CNN New York had sent me a message, asking for any updates I may have had. Even when The Setonian (and I) broke men’s basketball player Herb Pope’s collapse last spring, not one media outlet called or e-mailed me. To fast forward, by the end of Saturday, I had spoken to or e-mailed with The New York Times, the New York Post, the Daily News, CBS, NBC, South Orange Patch, and others that I’ve forgotten in the whirlwind.

I cannot lie, it was a thrill and daunting at the same time. Clearly, something awful had gone down if the entire tri-state area was watching.

I also had a message sent to me in the 5 a.m. hour from a student. His details of the shooting incident were specific, gut-wrenching, and seemingly grounded enough to use as a source. The messenger – an eyewitness – didn’t leave a phone number, though. So I shot back a quick e-mail of the “call me ASAP” variety to see if he could be a source that really gives this fluid story some stability.

In the heat of it all – around 11:20 a.m. – I received a phone call and an invite to a “meeting for student leadership” on the campus. I rushed through a quick shower, threw on khaki shorts and my least-wrinkled Mets tee, snatched up my gear and took off – yet again in the direction of campus.

Simultaneously as I hurried to this 12 noon meeting, my team approached confirmation on the victims’ names and some loose descriptions of them. Soon enough, we would find Facebook to be a valuable tool.

Facebook – no joke.

In this circumstance, a name floating in the rumor mill of victims approached confirmation when their Facebook page/wall became flooded with Bible verses for inspiration and messages of “be strong” or “get well soon.” I mentioned one name to a University-based source after the 12 noon meeting – the name behind the most-watched of our Facebook pages all morning.

This became my first in-person confirmation of a victim’s name. That name was Jessica Moore.

She was our “critically wounded” victim, one of three Seton Hall students we were following. And, clearly, the one with the biggest spotlight in terms of media coverage as per her unfortunate condition. The Facebook page gave us a class year, age, and a photograph to match.

But Facebook is Facebook, and “critical” is not a medical condition to fool around with. Even with my team discovering some pretty damn good sources, I held off on dropping a name with online publication. Not yet, I thought. The last thing I want to be responsible for is a family member seeing this story before receiving a phone call about what had happened from a close relative.

After the student leadership meeting, Sutcliffe, Managing Editor Nick Parco, assorted staffers and I kept in touch via texts and brief phone calls about what was happening. I tweaked our Web site a bit, monitored “Seton Hall” as a search on Google News, and guided my team as best I could as to how we can confirm information as quickly and efficiently as possible. I found myself surprisingly stern – sending my colleagues “…says who?” or “According to who? How can I believe that?” in text messages for a few hours. We were getting closer – on the victims, on the details, and how the shooting transpired.

We did also lock down some key pieces of information with the story – which hospital (University Hospital in Newark), the exact location of the shooting geographically (technically East Orange and not Newark), and where the other two non-SHU victims were from (reportedly N.J.I.T. students, which later changed to one N.J.I.T. student, one non-student).

I broke away for lunch at the University’s “Caf” with my girlfriend. Black coffee and sugar-rich ice cream became the lynch pins of the meal. I had gotten word of a vigil to be held on the Green at 2 p.m. So, lunch was timed to end about 10 minutes after the hour and I took my dessert to go and see what was happening.

The site was somewhat strange in that I’ve never seen a large Seton Hall student/faculty/staff reaction to tragedy like this. A large group – I’d guess well over 100 people at one point – holding hands in a silent circle on the Green. This part of campus, on a beautiful and sunny September afternoon, is typically empty save a few students with a Frisbee or a soccer ball. Saturday at the Hall – especially at the start of the school year, it seems – is a time for students to trot between their dorm rooms and the Caf or to depart home for the weekend. There are scarcely ever 100 people on the Green on a Saturday, let alone praying together.

With respect for the circumstances behind the impromptu vigil (organized via Facebook and/or Twitter), I opted not to run back into my Setonian office on campus to grab a professional camera. Instead, I staked out in front of an academic building nearby – Jubilee Hall – and took a few quick pictures on my BlackBerry camera, holding the phone up as if I was just searching for service.

Back to the office I ran to upload the photo, provide some short updates on our running hard news story, and check the Web. Hits were now in the seven-to-eight thousand range. Our Tweets (at Twitter.com/Setonian) were being re-Tweeted by students and alumni. And, more and more phone calls or online instant messages came my way – now from friends wanting to know what was really going on at Seton Hall.

We posted short updates into the master story throughout the early afternoon and created new articles about different angles to the situation, like the broadcast e-mail alert to the campus about the shooting. It was tiring and taxing – part because it was my only day of the week that I’m off, and part because my lack of sleep from the night before was catching up to me.

I conducted a short interview with Dr. Laura Wankel, the Vice President for Student Affairs, to get some updated information from a major University source out to our community. We were able to announce the counseling provisions made by the University as per the incident, the planned prayer service that night, and publish comments from an administrator about the true horror in the details of the shooting.

As I finished our Web updates, checked my inbox, and did a final Google News update search, I figured it was time to go home. Roughly 2:30 p.m. – maybe slightly later, I can’t remember. I text messaged my girlfriend to pick a meeting spot and to drive back to my apartment.

And then two of my colleagues contacted me with the same message at the same time: Moore had died.

I froze. This isn’t the type of thing you learn how to manage in a journalism course.

BMW

Brian Wisowaty covered the tragic shooting incident in East Orange for The Setonian.com. Please visit The Setonian.com for full stories, recaps, and reaction pieces.

Part three of “Surreal Saturday” will be posted soon.