Every decision in this coverage felt like an ethical puzzle. Alumna Reese Manchaca died in the Hill County floods, and I had a duty to report. To truly put a face to those numbers in the headlines.
All the facts were accurate, but through my digging, I ended up reporting breaking information from that night to the Manchacas. In my reporting, we highlighted ways the community rallied to Reese’s cause, but some in the administration felt it was cold, sterile reporting. We published the principal's letter reminding the community to honor her memory.
I could handle that letter, but I sank when Reese’s family called the article too graphic. I revisited the article and reworded some of the details that could have come off as heartless, which was never my intention, but the story remained published.
The situation ate at me; where I hoped to rally people in Reese’s honor, I ended up hurting the family. As a journalist, I executed well, but as a person I felt horrible. It was a slap in the face of reality and a reminder of the impact journalists hold and that I am a human before I am a reporter.