Hunley: On fathers, sons and bad news

It was the lilies that did it.

About 20 feet away from broken glass, they sat with a red, star-shaped balloon, and two other bouquets: one with red roses, one with pink.

Two pinwheels spun in the chilly Saturday afternoon air, too.

The collection was put together alongside Dale Boulevard to memorialize Mohammad Wali, a 19-year-old who soon was to graduate from Freedom High School.

He died in a two-car crash on Dale near Ashdale and Interstate 95. The police said he was speeding, and a woman and her 4-year-old daughter were injured.

The crash came at rush hour on Friday afternoon, which meant that lots of people saw its results, and this newspaper and other media outlets scrambled to find out information about it and about Wali.

The stories prompted folks to leave lots of comments on our Web site, too. Some expressed condolences to the Wali family, others were critical of the young driver. And "critical" is putting it nicely.

On the other hand, the thoughts that came to me as I visited that memorial site weren't about the specifics of that particular wreck.

They were about my own son. He's just 3. He not only can't drive, he can't even sit in the front passenger seat.

I looked at those lilies and thought about how my heart would stop if something happened to him.

I hoped that drivers whizzing by on Dale Boulevard thought I was some kind of hard-boiled detective, coat and tie on and pacing around looking for clues.

But really I was trying to take notes for a story on Wali and not to lose it. I had to swallow several times in an effort not to cry.

After Jackson was born, I lost most ability to take in media in which children face trouble.

I cannot make it through the Sean Penn film "I am Sam," in which a mentally retarded man fights for custody of his daughter. And I abruptly turned off the movie "In Bruges" when a child died.

Similarly, the station must be changed if the Everclear song "Father of Mine" comes on the radio. I'm not a deadbeat dad like the one described in the lyrics, but hearing it makes me worry that I'm not being enough of a father in some other way.

What I'm beginning to wonder, though, is if I'm also going to get to the point that I can't cover these kinds of stories that involve children.

Journalists have to become kind of callous toward news of death and destruction. If we couldn't hold our emotions in check, we might not be able to inform the public about those subjects.

I haven't covered a war or much other mayhem in my time, but Saturday was the first time I just about broke down on an assignment.

What does that make me? Too anxious? Sure. A wimp? Perhaps.

It doesn't really matter. A lot of people don't think much of the media anyhow.

They say we're slanted, that we're opinionated.

And you know what? I'm going to give the critics what they want today.

I do have an opinion on a story I should be objective about:

I'm sorry that Mohammad Wali died. I didn't know him, and I don't know exactly why the crash happened.

I'm sad for his family.

Jonathan Hunley is a staff writer at the News & Messenger. Contact him at 703-369-5738 or at jhunley@insidenova.com.