Five years after The Capital murders, journalism can still be difficult and dangerous
Even now I can remember the sunny June Thursday; warm but not too hot.
Some of us were still recovering a little from reporting election returns in the Maryland primaries two days before and analyzing the come-from-behind nomination of Democrat Ben Jealous for governor.
The first inkling that anything was wrong came in an urgent text message that afternoon from my friend Bryan Sears, who was working for the Daily Record in Baltimore. I had to read it a couple of times before what he was telling me really sank in.
It said there was an active shooter at the offices of The Capital, which is the daily newspaper in Annapolis. And there were multiple victims.
Adrenalin started pumping. In my mind, I paged through the faces of the people I knew who had worked there.
He's at the Post now.
She's at the Sun.
She's at Baltimore Business.
He's with Anne Arundel County.
She's in Norfolk at the Virginian-Pilot.
There was one who hadn't left, however. I didn't know him well; I'd just met him a few months before. But I kept waiting to hear whether he was OK.
I knew that news of the shooting would spread around the country soon. I did a quick social media post so my family would know I was OK — because for three months out of the year, Annapolis had been my second home as I reported from the capitol during legislative sessions.
Friends and family, I am NOT in Annapolis today. Please pray for my friends at The Capital and for the Annapolis police. NOW.
Soon a sense of dread enveloped the offices of The Herald-Mail, particularly among those who had been here for a while.
A former Herald-Mail sportswriter was now working for The Capital. And nobody had heard from him.
By evening we learned that my acquaintance was safe; he had the day off and was out of town, but rushed back when he got the call.
But John McNamara, our former sportswriter, was among the victims.
I was at home when I got the news that he'd been killed, and I knew I'd be writing that story the following morning.
Shaken colleagues sat by my desk as they told me stories about John, who had left Hagerstown before I joined The Herald-Mail. Nobody could believe he was gone.
The shooter had a longstanding grudge against The Capital, which had reported years before on his conviction for cyberstalking. In the days that followed, I went back and read that story. There was nothing especially unusual about it; it was a simple cops-and-courts story. Nearly everyone in this business has written dozens just like it.
And ironically, none of the five people he killed in that newsroom on June 28, 2018, had anything at all to do with it.
June 28 is now Freedom of the Press Day in Maryland. Last year, I was asked to give remarks at a now annual illumination ceremony at the War Correspondents Memorial Arch in Gathland State Park. And in the year since, nothing has changed what I said then — except that it's now been five years since the murders rather than four.
So in honor of John, Gerald Fischman, Rob Hiaasen, Wendi Winters and Rebecca Smith, here are those remarks:
George Townsend erected this monument to recognize the journalists who recorded the bleakest chapter in our nation’s history; who looked war in its ghastly face and tried to describe what they saw to anxious readers back home, putting themselves in harm’s way in the process.
They were among the thousands of American journalists throughout our history who have devoted their lives to a relentless pursuit of truth; taking risks to provide the facts we need to make informed decisions, to see justice done and to shine a light on situations that demand to be resolved.
We all make sacrifices of some kind to produce the news — time and fortune, comfort, even that fundamental human desire to be liked. Fortunately most of us are not required to sacrifice our lives.
But tonight we rightly recognize those who have.
From abolitionist editor Elijah Lovejoy, murdered by a pro-slavery mob in 1837; to Daniel Pearl, kidnapped and savagely murdered while trying to get answers to the questions we all had after the the terror attacks of September 11.
To the many others who have died in hot spots around the globe and to the scores of American journalists who were murdered because of what their news organizations reported — including those who were shot to death four years ago today in their Annapolis newsroom.
Journalism has never been simple or easy. But tonight we gather at a time of heightened tensions, both from outside sources and from within our own industry.
A time of deep division in our country. And a time when an alarming proportion of our electorate is indifferent.
A time when hostility toward journalists has reached a depth that I’ve certainly never experienced before, even in our own community.
The temptation to walk away from all that is intense, and many have. But the rest of us owe it to those we honor tonight to keep the light on.
To speak truth to power.
To be voices for the voiceless.
To tell the uplifting stories that encourage others.
To uphold our own integrity with a ferocity that should never be diminished.
To remember that our mission is not to tell people what they want to hear, but what they need to know.
To love our communities, our state and our nation enough to tell them the truth — regardless of what that looks like. And regardless of the cost.
Tamela Baker is a Herald-Mail feature writer. This year's memorial illumination is scheduled for 7 p.m. Wednesday at the War Correspondents Memorial Arch at Gathland and will feature Dan Shelley, president and CEO of the Radio Television Digital News Association, as keynote speaker.
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This article originally appeared on The Herald-Mail: Five years after The Capital murders, journalism is still dangerous
