MONDAY, AUGUST 28 – “Bill,” Tom Spence said as he stood in front of the station manager's desk, “I understand that ‘911 Live’ is starting in three weeks, on September 15, two weeks before the rest of the new season.”
“That's right. They think it's such a strong show that Network is going to use it as the lead-in to introduce the other new shows. And they want to have as many weeks as possible with sunlight, before daylight savings time ends, after which everything will have to be on floodlights.”
“Have you considered our request to cancel the show or to move it to later at night?”
“Yes, of course. I've considered it. But I'm not going to do either one.”
“Well, I'm sorry for all of us, then, but more importantly I'm sorry for our country. I expect you'll have several resignations on your desk today, effective next Tuesday, the day after Labor Day.”
“I'm sorry, too, Tom. You, Connie, and the rest are good people. I respect your opinions, but I obviously don't agree with them.”
“Since I'm resigning Bill, I want you to know that this show is the work of the devil. It's that simple. He's using you and Network to even further demean individuals, families, and all the values on which this nation was built. It's so obvious, if you just look back over the last twenty years.”
Smiling, Bill responded, “And since you're resigning, Tom, I can finally tell you you're crazy. There's no such thing as the devil, and if there were, he'd have a lot more important things to do than to worry about this one small television station. Please do say at your press conference, if you have one, that the devil is behind this show. I can't wait to hear the reaction!”
As Tom closed the door to Bill Shaw's office, Kromor and his two lieutenants, floating over Bill's desk, gave each other high fives. “The work of the devil! Can you imagine!” Kromor laughed. “I'm sure glad Bill set him straight.” And they all laughed again.
“Richard, the news this morning is that a German firm has bought Princeton Textiles, the number three producer, and is planning to do heavy investments in robotics,” Bruce said over the phone late that morning, with obvious concern in his voice. “This could mean another beating for Fairchild's stock price. What exactly happens if the price does fall below twenty, with the closing so close?”
“It means they can call the closing off, and the deal dies, if the price falls below twenty for a week prior to the scheduled closing. I'm sure they're watching the price, too, Bruce. It gives them the opportunity to cancel the deal or at least to renegotiate it with us. I just can't believe this is happening,” Richard said, anger in his voice.
“Hey, I hate it, too, Richard. It's not my fault, you know. I have as much or more to lose as you do. What should we do?”
“You and Patrick Tomlinson struck the original deal, Bruce. This is not a legal question—it's business. Why don't you call Patrick, and you and David get on a plane and go see him? Then I'll do whatever I can to help on the legal end.”
“OK. You're right. I'll call him and see what his schedule looks like. Thanks, Richard. I guess you should keep working on the documents, and we'll try to settle the business side. I'll keep you informed about what's happening,” and he hung up.
Richard felt his $66,000 fee slipping away, and he hated it. He slammed his fist on the desk, got up, and paced around the office, swearing.
Just before noon Tom Spence stopped by Janet's office. “I realize you've just returned from vacation, but Connie and I want you to know that we're turning in our resignations this afternoon, effective next Tuesday. We hate to leave, but we don't believe we have any other choice.”
Janet had hoped that some other solution would be found, and she regretted watching this good group of old friends breaking up. “Do you have any other jobs lined up?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
“Sam Tarrant has found a small station out on the west coast that needs a senior technician. The rest of us will start looking in earnest after our press conference.”
“When will that be?”
“Tuesday at noon at the Palace Hotel. That will be about ten days before ‘911 Live’ is scheduled to start—right after Labor Day, so we hope there will be some impact.”
“Well, Tom, I have to thank you indirectly for one of the most exciting and disturbing evenings of my life.” Her smile turned serious. “But I guess if you are going to blast Network and the station, then we're on opposite sides now.”
“Are we Janet?”
“Neither one of us likes that show, but I've chosen to remain inside the system, and you've decided that you have to leave. So I imagine we may butt heads on this one. It's a shame, but it may happen.”
“Be careful, Janet. You can start out from what seems like a reasonable position, and pretty soon they'll own your soul, if you're not careful.”
“Thanks, Tom. I'm a big girl, and I'll watch out. Don't worry about me. I can handle it. Here, let me give you a hug, for old times’ sake. You be careful, too. You've got a family and no job, come Tuesday.”
Janet stood up and walked around her desk. They hugged in the middle of her office. “I really respect all seven of you, Tom. Good luck.”
He had not been gone more than five minutes when the intercom buzzed from Bill Shaw's office, and he asked Janet to come up.
“It's great to have you back, Janet,” Bill said, as she took the seat he offered in his office. “I hope you had a wonderful vacation.” She nodded in the affirmative.
“Good, then. Tom Spence came by this morning,” Bill continued, “to tell me that seven of them are going to resign, effective next Tuesday.”
“Yes, he just left my office with the same news.”
“Did he give you any details about their plans?”
“Only that they're planning a press conference for noon that day at the Palace Hotel.”
“Great. Thorn Glass from Network and I have been talking, and we've worked out the beginning of a plan. It may involve you, so I'd like your input,”
“Shoot,” said Janet, not realizing the irony in her response.
TUESDAY, AUGUST 29 – At Tuesday's “lunch,” Kristen, who had not seen Richard for almost a week, was again persistent about their future. She had thought more, during his absence in Vermont, about taking matters into her own hands. But she wanted to hear from him first. As she left their bed to fetch some bread and fruit, she turned, and, pulling her hair back with both hands while silhouetted in the bedroom doorway, said, “Richard, the summer is almost over. Your kids will be starting back to school in a matter of days. When are you ever going to tell Janet about us, so that we can get on with our life together?”
“Kristen, it's so difficult. I just don't know what to do.”
“Well,” she asked, as she stretched her body with her hands now over her head, “is it Janet, or is it the kids, who keep you there?”
“Oh, it's the kids,” he lied once again, not wanting to tell her the truth, that he and Janet were slowly but steadily improving their relationship.
“So if Janet were gone, but you could still have a good relationship with the children, then that would be OK?” she called from the kitchen.
“Yes, I guess so. But I don't see how that's possible,” he said. And I don't really want it, he added silently to himself.
“Well, my Texas grandfather had a saying,” she said, returning and sitting down across from him on the bed, the bowl of fruit in her lap. “’Be careful what you ask for, ‘cause you might get it.” She smiled and offered him a bunch of grapes. He took them and smiled back, not really understanding, but always delighted to talk with her about almost anything, when he had so many freckles in so many great places to look at.
That afternoon, Bruce McKinney called Richard again. “Patrick Tomlinson has a tough schedule for the next two weeks, but luckily he's coming here at the end of next week, on Friday, to spend the weekend. He was amenable to us getting together on Friday night for supper; and he will even have his attorney with him, on some other business. So David and I would like for you to join us, and the five of us will have a nice dinner. Then maybe we'll relax, do something like the Platinum Club, let our hair down a bit, to strengthen the relationship. Can you make it that night?”
“Let's see. Yes, looks fine. We're having a quiet, stay-at-home Labor Day, after the recent trip to Vermont. Next Friday looks fine. And I haven't been to the Platinum Club in a year. Are you sure it's Tomlinson's cup of tea?”
“Absolutely. He even asked me about it. Said he'd heard of it, but had never been there. And, by the way, Richard, he was very laid back on the telephone. Maybe he's watching the stock and preparing to nail us. But he sounded happy to meet and to have dinner with us, so maybe it will all work out.”
“I hope so. The documents are almost ready. We've penciled in the closing date for Friday, September 15.”
“We'll all keep our fingers crossed. Goodbye Richard.”
Tuesday night Susan was ready for her date with Drew thirty minutes early. She had been imagining this night for a month, and during her bath a voice had reminded her of how lucky she was to be loved by one of the best “catches” in her class. She knew that many other girls were envious of her good fortune. The plan was that he would drive over and rent a room, then pick her up. She told her mother they were going out for supper and would then go to a movie or play miniature golf or “something.” As she was brushing her hair in her bathroom, checking her looks for the twentieth time, she smiled to herself at how easy it had become to lie to her parents, in just the few short months since that night with Amy. Well, not lie, actually, Nepravel reminded her in her own voice. It's just better that they not know everything. And she smiled again.
Drew was right on time, and said hello to Janet and Richard as he waited for Susan to come down. “With school starting Thursday, I guess you, Susan and the rest of your class will be applying for college soon,” Richard said. “Where are you planning to apply?”
Before Drew could reply, Susan came down the stairs. Both men thought she looked stunning, even in that evening's casual dress. Richard was pleased that she was growing up to be such a happy, attractive young woman. And Drew was already imagining their evening's activities. Nepravel, who came down with Susan and was now perched above the kitchen cabinets, laughed at the dichotomy in the two men's minds over one woman. “If only they could read each other's thoughts!” he smiled to himself.
As Richard watched his daughter and Drew walk out to Drew's car, holding hands, he turned to Janet and said, “Drew seems like such a good guy. I hope Susan stays happy with him. And maybe someday, when the time is right, she'll meet somebody like him and get married. I guess it won't be too long now, Janet. When did we get so old?” he smiled at her.
“Oh, I hope we still have quite a few years before that, Richard. But Drew is a nice boy. I think he does well in school. And the main thing is that I trust him with Susan,” Janet said, putting their own supper in the oven.
“Did you get the room?” Susan asked, as soon as they were in the car.
“Sure, no problem,” he smiled. He pulled the key to room 272 at the Pilgrim Lodge out of his pocket and handed it to her. “The room is on the second floor, and around back. We can park right by the stairs, and no one will see us.”
She handled the key like it was something magical. Their very own motel room! She slid over close to Drew and whispered in his ear, “I love you.” Nepravel, who wouldn't miss an evening like this for anything except a death, turned up the voices of Lust and Passion in both of them, in case either of them started to have second thoughts. But he knew that at their age, and with so much planning already invested, there was little chance of that.
They rode to the motel without saying much, each lost in imagining what the next few hours would be like. Susan imagined a large, sunny room with a balcony and white curtains blowing in the breeze. Drew imagined Susan.
When they arrived, they parked next to the stairs, as Drew had predicted. At that hour the parking lot was still almost empty. Standing outside the motel room door, Susan giggled when Drew at first couldn't open it. When the door finally opened, the first impression was the stale smell of twenty years’ of cigarette smoke. As they walked in, Susan noticed the cheap, dark wood paneling and the two double beds with faded brown bedspreads. Drew closed and locked the door, turned and smiled. Suddenly Susan wanted to run. She felt as if cold water had been thrown on her. This was not what she had been imagining for the past month or in her bath that afternoon. Or in her dreams since she was a little girl. This was not a handsome husband in a magnificent bridal suite at an expensive hotel in Europe. This was a cheap motel room with a high school student who said that he loved her. But did he? And what if he did? Was this how she wanted to make love the first time? What about getting married first?
Nepravel was right there and heard the questions in Susan's mind. Immediately he sought to reassure her and to relax her with the voice of Passion. Of course he loves me, she heard herself saying. And he is so good to me…if I don't go through with this after all these plans, I'll never see him again! Mom even said that this is what life is all about. Drew took her in his arms and kissed her. The voice continued inside her, Probably we will get married…and even if we don't, we love each other…not like Amy and Billy…and what he is doing feels so good…he must love me.
So the small voice of Truth in her conscience was overwhelmed by the other voices, telling her to give in to her passion. And Susan simply had no other defense to fight with. She was no match for the forces working toward this moment in her life for so many years: the movies and television she watched, the magazines and the ads she read, the CDs she played, even the advice from her mother. All had told her to go ahead, to give in to “true love” and to passion, two of the most revered qualities in America, judging from the time spent selling them. With no counterbalances in her life, how could she really be expected to do anything else?
So for the first time she lay down on a bed with a boy, and even though they were both novices, their lust went on automatic pilot. They had both seen enough movies and television so that there was no mystery about what they were supposed to do. A few minutes later, as Drew fumbled again, this time with the condom, they both laughed and said at the same time, “Just like in sex education class!” That really broke the ice, and, in a strange way, legitimized in Susan's mind what they were doing. They had practiced! The final lie, after so many others, reassured her, in a clear voice, “This is OK. Go ahead. Don't worry about later. He loves you.”
Later that night over the city, the dark forces who hate humans were pleased to hear of Susan and Drew's decision to have intercourse. They knew that this one act could now set up other important hurdles to prevent them from hearing about Jesus: guilt, disease, unworthiness, bad company, gossip, and on and on. Until widespread drug use came along to destroy parts of the population, sex had always been their greatest weapon to tempt humans away from a happy life. And it would always be very powerful.
But as pleased as Balzor and his lieutenants were about Drew and Susan, they were just as concerned about Amy, who continued to go to church with Bobbie, read her Bible, and had even started praying, motivated by a desire to help Susan.
“What is your plan to prevent her from becoming a Christian?” Balzor asked Nepravel and Zloy.
“She's still only looking,” Nepravel volunteered to his master. “She has not yet decided to submit her life to that cursed Son of God, nor has she prayed the Holy Spirit into her life.”
“But if she hangs around with that Meredith girl and continues going to Morningside Church, it could happen any day now. And then we will lose her, and you two will be to blame!”
“We plan,” Zloy interjected, “now that Susan has joined her in experiencing sex at seventeen, to use the Sullivan girl to pull Amy back, away from Bobbie and all of her influences.”
“Well, you better be quick about it.” Balzor dismissed them with a blast of scalding flame and went on to the next demon's nightly report.
THURSDAY, AUGUST 31 – Amy, Bobbie, Susan, and Drew started their senior year at Northpark High that Thursday. Susan had decided that she would not volunteer to her two friends what she and Drew had done, given their previous advice, but would instead just let the information drop when the time was right. Since Tuesday night, Susan had felt a strange mixture of gain and loss. She now knew something adults know, but some part of her regretted knowing it, no matter how much she tried to silence those thoughts. Sex was now a part of her relationship with Drew, and, like Amy, Susan was realizing that this meant a complexity and a force she had not anticipated.
Just as significant as the physical loss of her virginity was the sudden difference in their relationship. Drew had already asked her if she wanted to go to the motel again on Saturday night. Was this going to be their standard date now? And she could not shake the feeling that she had done something wrong, no matter how many voices reassured her that she was just fine. As she walked in from the parking lot at school that morning, Drew met her, gave her a quick kiss, and put his arm around her. It really will be OK, she thought.
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 4 – The Sullivans enjoyed a low-key Labor Day, joining their neighbors on Monday afternoon at the park to play tennis and softball and to enjoy their traditional neighborhood cookout. Bobbie, Thomas, and Drew joined the neighborhood party. Jay's interest in Amy had waned in the past weeks, so she was alone that weekend, but she didn't mind. There were some interesting guys from other schools at Morningside's youth group, where she was now a regular, and she decided that her social life had not ended with Jay's departure.
Between the trip to Vermont and excuses of one form or another, Tommy had managed not to spend an evening with the older boys since that night at Freddie's house. His experience with Caroline Batten in Vermont had caught his attention, and each had written a letter to the other. In school some of the boys in the crowd with whom he had been spending time almost surrounded him in the hall and asked him when he was going out with them again. He had put them off, too. But here at the Labor Day cookout, Brent told him, as they rode their bikes around the park, that on Friday night the “old gang” with whom they had started, were going to the adult book store again, renting videos, and camping out in his basement, while his parents would be gone.
“I don't know, Brent. That night at Freddie's was pretty heavy. I may want to move on. That group is a little too far out for me. I mean having fun together is OK, but there's this girl, Caroline. I don't know.”
“Come on and join us, Tommy. You know it's fun. And it doesn't hurt anybody. We're going to get both girl and boy videos this time.”
Tommy, still confused about virtually everything associated with his emotions and wanting to please his friend, agreed in the end to join them, at least this one more time.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5 – On Tuesday morning at 9:00, Tom Spence stopped by Bill Shaw's office to say goodbye. He had cleaned out his desk over the long Labor Day weekend, and this morning he was ending his career with the station where he had worked for longer than he cared to admit.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Spence,” Bill's secretary greeted him, “but Mr. Shaw is not in this morning, and we don't expect him until after lunch.”
Tom headed downstairs to Janet's office to say goodbye, but she was not in either. Her secretary was more helpful. “She's at a network press conference with Mr. Shaw.”
“Press conference?” Tom asked. “Our group has scheduled one at noon. That's the only one I know about. Is there another? Where is it?”
“It's at 10:00, I think, at the Palace Hotel. Bob Grissom, the producer of’911 Live,’ flew in early this morning for it.” Tom suddenly felt sick to his stomach.
He quickly found all the others who were resigning that morning, or left notes on their desks, then drove downtown to the Palace. On the way he called Connie, who was still at home, and told her what was happening. Because she lived downtown, they arrived at the Palace Hotel at about the same time and met outside the large meeting room, where a sign on a tripod read:
10:00 Network “911 Live” Press Conference
12:00 “911 Live” Press Conference
Inside, the room was packed, and Tom was interested to see that both the other local television stations were covering the event, along with TV5. Bill must have called them personally, he thought.
At a little after the appointed hour, Bob Grissom, Bill Shaw, and Janet Sullivan walked up on the small dais, and Bob Grissom addressed his fellow members of the media.
“This fall our network will be kicking off a new show which will utilize the absolute latest in communications technology to bring you the best and most interesting cases of our nation's finest 911 emergency personnel in action, live. We're calling the show ‘911 Live.’ We think it will break new ground in broadcast journalism and set a pace for others to try to emulate, if they can. I have the privilege of being the show's producer. We are very excited about the show's potential to inform our audience of what is happening in our nation's larger cities, as it happens. We are proud of this show and the technological challenges we have overcome in order to make it possible. There is a page in the press kit you received this morning that details all of these breakthroughs, as well as the system we will use to link the cities together.
“But there is apparently a small, vocal group who do not agree with us and who want to stop this show for their own purposes. As you may know, we tested all of the command and control concepts for ‘911 Live’ right here in your city two months ago. Two of those who volunteered for that duty, who are avowed Christian fundamentalists, have now decided that the show needs censorship, and they have encouraged others at our local affiliate here, TV5, to quit their jobs over this show. We detest censorship in any form, as I'm sure you do, and we hate to see good people talked into giving up their jobs over a personal opinion.
“But looking beyond these immediate motivations, we can in fact understand how this show may be so new and so dynamic that it might give some people, even good and unprejudiced people, some pause, because of its potential for immediacy.
“And so we have called this press conference to announce three extraordinary steps which we at Network are instituting immediately, in order to show our commitment to broadcast responsibility:
1. We are beginning the show earlier than the rest of the new season so that our audience will have the opportunity to judge its impact as soon as possible, with as little third-party opinion as possible.
2. After the show has been on for eight weeks, in mid-November, we will make ballots available through our major soft drink sponsor on a nationwide basis, and we will allow our audience to vote on whether to keep the show on the air or not. We know of no other previous network commitment to such democracy for a new show. We believe that this pledge speaks for itself in the area of reason and fairness.
3. Finally, in order to ensure the ongoing appropriateness of all of our network's programming, we have created, at the suggestion of your own Bill Shaw, seated behind me, the new Affiliate Advisory Commission, which will review all new shows and concepts to insure that they meet the highest local standards of quality and appropriateness. And I am very pleased to announce that Janet Sullivan, who also participated during our earlier test run at TV5, has agreed to serve as our first chairwoman. Mrs. Sullivan, I might add, also has some problems with ‘911 Live’ in its original format. But she is here today because, unlike the fundamentalists, she is not quitting and is instead working to improve broadcasting from the inside. We salute her and welcome her to this new, important position.”
Janet nodded.
“Now, that is the end of my prepared remarks. If you have any questions for me or my colleagues, please go ahead and ask. Oh, and don't forget to watch the first ‘911 Live’ next Friday, September 15, at 7:30. Thank you.”
Tom, Connie, and three of the others from their group who arrived at the hotel in time sat in the back of the room, stunned. Tom, who had been around television the longest, had to give it to the network—they had turned every possible negative into a positive statement for the show. He knew their own press conference in ninety minutes would now be an uphill battle, at best. Bob Grissom had signaled his allies in the media that the folks who had called the later conference were the worst types imaginable: Christian fundamentalists! Even a competing television news department would shelve its normal policy of not discussing another network's shows and carry the story about the TV5 show, if it was a chance to bash the fundamentalists, who were perceived as their common enemy. Yes, Tom had to admit, the early press conference was brilliant and would result in more publicity for ‘911 Live,’ probably on a national basis, than Network could ever have purchased.
A reporter was asking Janet a question about her differences with the show and with the fundamentalists who were quitting.
“Well, I must say that they are good people, many of whom I have known for a long time. I just think they have been almost brainwashed over this one issue.” Tom cringed at her choice of words, knowing he would hear them repeated later. “As for the show itself, I worry about what might be broadcast into living rooms at that hour. But Network has already agreed to review the whole concept in November, after our commission is operating and the vote from our viewers is in. I think their approach is very forward thinking and fair. I believe that if changes are warranted, Network will make them.”
“Good luck,” Tom said, almost loud enough to be heard. He suddenly had a splitting headache and could not believe how Bob and Bill had used Janet so obviously and so quickly. Didn't she see it? Did she really believe what she was saying? What about that little boy, Eddie Barnes, in the burning car? What would he say about “911 Live”?
The conference was breaking up. Tom and the other “fundamentalists” sat in the back of the room, not saying a word, as Bill, Janet, and Bob left by the center aisle. Bill stopped to shake Tom's hand, Janet standing behind him. Tom did not stand up, so Bill patted him on the shoulder and wished him good luck.
Tom turned in his chair, looking up at Bill and Janet. “Since we are so fundamental, we have decided to pray between now and our own press conference. And we will pray for you, Bill, and for the station. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Janet. Next time I go to see Eddie Barnes after one of his skin grafts, I'll give him your best.”
“That's all right, Tom. I'll do it myself, the next time I go to see him. I'm sorry for you, Tom; I think you really are brainwashed. We'll change the show, but from the inside.” And she left with the two men.
Tom and his group filed out and talked in the hall. Connie left to get her car, and the rest of them found an empty, smaller conference room, where they circled some chairs and prayed for the next hour, interceding for the station, its personnel, the network, and the nation.
“Richard, the Fairchild stock price opened at 21 this morning, but already it's at 19.5,” Bruce announced. “That's the first time it's been below 20 in several years. I swear, these slow estate tax attorneys! We should have closed our deal months ago.”
“I agree,” Richard said, “but here we are. Unless Tomlinson or his attorney calls one of us, let's just soldier on as if nothing had happened, and listen to what they have to say on Friday night.”
“That's about all we can do. See you then, Richard.”
At noon most of the newspaper and television reporters who had covered the earlier meeting reassembled in the same room for the second press conference. Connie had not yet returned, so Tom Spence and the other five members of their group took their seats around the podium, and then Tom rose and started with his prepared remarks.
He made the same case as he and the others had made to the TV5 management over the past several months. He emphasized that they were not advocating censorship, but responsibility. “The government has granted the Network and TV5 the right to broadcast into our homes, and every right also carries responsibilities,” he said. “We feel that ‘911 Live’ violates those responsibilities on several counts.” And he listed them for the reporters.
As a result of the previous conference, Tom added to his text that each of them had made an individual decision, not aided or coerced by the other. He quickly reviewed their previous frustrations with changing Network policies and called for a public response to both TV5 and to Network to cancel or to reposition the show.
Once he finished his remarks, the reporters started asking questions.
“Is it true that you are all Christian fundamentalists?”
“It happens that we are all Christian believers—I'm not sure how to define a fundamentalist,” Tom answered. “But this issue is far broader than any one faith. It has to do with families and simple decency and government licenses. Those are the issues we should be focused on.”
“Aren't you calling for internal censorship, which has been a plank of the Christian right wing for years?”
“Again, I'm glad that I'm a Christian, but that's not the issue today. If internal censorship means the decision makers at Network decide not to show a particular show because it is inappropriate or in poor taste, then I guess the answer is yes.”
The questions continued on this line for several more minutes, and the conference was becoming a religious debate, when the back door of the room opened and Connie walked in, holding Eddie Barnes’ hand. Eddie's father pushed his wheelchair. They came right to the dais, and Eddie, who still had bandages on his neck and the back of his head, smiled and waved to the reporters. Several waved back.
Tom spoke. “We could debate this show all day on theoretical grounds, with little result. Instead, let me introduce you to a very brave and very lucky young man and to his father. We met them in that awful interstate wreck you may have seen ‘featured’ in the ‘911 Live’ promotions. Ladies and gentlemen, the truth is that but for the grace of God and for two firefighters arriving just when they did, we all would have watched Eddie burned alive, right before our eyes, during that evening's dessert.”
There was a gasp from the reporters. Tom continued, “While we of course cannot provide you with the video, since it is not ours, we have obtained these color pictures, taken of the crash and of Eddie, by a motorist who happened to have a camera in his car. We have twenty copies of the set of ten prints. And we ask you to imagine these views live and in color in your home, with your children watching.”
The pictures were passed out, and the reporters started directing questions to Eddie, his father, and Connie. The last-minute decision to invite Eddie had the anticipated effect, even on a hardened press corps looking for reasons to shoot holes in their story. After thirty more minutes, Tom was sure that the reporters’ stories would at least be balanced and questioning, not just repeating Network's viewpoint. His only regret was to be creating so much publicity for the show, but they had prayed and decided that they had no other choice.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6 – “Don't forget that this Friday night I'm going out to dinner with Bruce, David, and their investor,” Richard reminded Janet over their breakfast the next morning.
“Hmmm?…Oh, yes, thanks…Richard, I remember.” Janet looked up from the morning newspaper. She had been reading the lead article in the local news section about their dual press conferences. The article had a color picture of Eddie Barnes in his father's car, and the headline read, “’911 Live’: Are We Ready For It?”
She held the paper up for Richard to see. “Whatever else happens, you have to admit this has turned into a marketing bonanza for us. Why, I bet most televisions in the city will be tuned in to that first show. Bill can ask almost anything he wants for a sixty-second spot. And maybe we really will get the show cleaned up after a few months—or else killed. It looks like a win-win to me. I wish Tom and the others hadn't quit. So senseless.”
Richard listened and gave a yes in agreement. He was interested, but for the moment he was more interested in protecting his $66,000 fee from McKinney and Smith, not to mention his $500,000 loan guarantee.