The last four weeks have been surreal. Aside from practically living out of a laptop case at the Washoe County District Courthouse, typing nonstop for an average of seven hours a day, and watching a man be sentenced to death by a group of strangers, I also was lucky enough to witness a community coming together in a way I’ve never seen.
I’ve been covering the murder case of Brianna Denison since the snowy day she disappeared in January 2008. I remember the rumors, the speculation, and the pictures of the beautiful college student that vanished off a couch in the night. I remember how for weeks, even months, I spent nearly every day doing interviews with her family members, and following around search and rescue volunteers as they combed parks, neighborhoods, and playgrounds. Many of these volunteers didn’t know Brianna Denison or her family. But they told me it’s what they would have wanted if their child were to disappear.
When James Biela was arrested in November of 2008, I got a frantic midnight phone call from my assignment editor.
“They caught someone for Brianna’s murder,” he said. “See you early in the morning.”
I didn’t go back to sleep that night. I laid there in bed, shocked that the police had finally found their guy. By then, Brianna had been missing for almost nine months. The entire community had been tormented daily by her strange disappearance. We knew then that two other rape victims had also come forward, and that they too were anxiously hoping for closure. I knew that even though a man was behind bars, the story was long from over.
My decision to cover the trial for James Biela wasn’t taken lightly. I knew there was a possibility that it could be moved to Las Vegas or another city with a less-tainted jury pool. With tough economic times, I knew I might be staying in a seedy motel, eating fast food, and enduring weeks of sleepless nights. But I didn’t care about any of that. I knew somehow, that aside from many trials that come and go, people would be watching this one closely. I owed it to the community to do the best job I could.
Normally, when TV stations like ours cover a high-profile trial, we give our viewers bits and pieces of what happens in court, tiny snapshots of riveting testimony, and glimpses of reaction from the victim’s families. We leave the courtroom in the afternoon, burdened with the technology involved with putting together a TV story. We have to log tape, write a script, voice it, edit it, and then cake on makeup before we stand in front of the bright TV lights. All of this while crossing our fingers that the generator won’t break, or a battery won’t run out of juice, destroying an entire day of work in a split second.
But this trial was different. The higher-ups at KOLO decided what the viewers is Reno really needed this time was someone who could bring them into the court room. I have no doubt in my mind that if as many people in Reno who wanted to watch the trial could have been there, we could have filled up every seat at Mackay Stadium. Instead, dozens of close family and friends often had to wait outside in the hallway while the testimony continued, desperately wanting to hear and see the action in the courtroom.
That’s where I came in. Aside from everything I was taught in journalism school, and aside from all I’ve learned during my five-year tenure as a television reporter, I decided to just tell people what I saw and heard, and forget about things like perfectly accurate spelling, analysis of attorney tactics, and riveting sound bites. Instead, I typed as fast as I could, jotting down every word said, no matter how seemingly insignificant or small. If I saw a family member grab a tissue, or leave the room for a particularly graphic photograph shown to the jury, I wrote that down too. If James Biela smiled or whispered to his attorneys, I recorded it. Never in a million years did I think so many people would be reading.
After fifteen full days in court, from jury selection to the death penalty verdict, more than 17,000 people had been following my blog, people from not just Reno, but Vermont, Florida, and even Canada. Almost 7,000 of them replayed the day’s blogs after court adjourned for the day. 6,000 people made comments. And on average, readers spent an hour-and-a-half of straight, uninterrupted time reading what I had to say. Sure, it wasn’t colorfully written or fancy, and although I haven’t counted, I’d estimate there were at least as many spelling mistakes as readers. But it was quick, it was honest, and it allowed people who cared about Brianna Denison, and who care about this community, to be in the courtroom with me.
I established a relationship with these committed blog followers. Some of them, whose names popped up in the blog again and again, became my cyber-friends. I imagined what they looked like, where they were sitting as the read, and what it was about the case that had them hooked to this trial. Like any good friends, I sometimes got a little irritated with questions I’d already answered, or critical comments spurred by the anonymity the Internet provides. But when I’d start to lose patience, I reminded myself that not everyone could be in the courtroom with me. By blogging, I was providing a service to the community, one that I won’t soon forget.
The trial is now over, and James Biela will soon be sent to death row. Brianna’s family is elated with the news, but his family is devastated. The community as a whole is breathing a sigh of relief, happy to see our justice system prevail, but sad that the tragic events of 2007 and 2008 ever had to happen in the first place.
As for me, my fingers are tired and my brain feels fried, but I’ll never forget the experience of covering this trial. It renewed my sense of faith in what we journalists do, and gave me new appreciation as for why people in Reno are such a tight knit bunch. We care about each other and it shows.
I’m off to graduate school at UNR in the fall, pursuing a degree in writing, a passion of mine that I just can’t help but follow. I’ll miss being a full-time journalist, but plan to make some brief appearances on KOLO-TV in the future. I’ll continue to follow this case, as well as what happens to James Biela, and all of the families impacted by his trial. And I will continue to write. After all, the past four weeks gave me what feels like a lifetime of material.
Thank you to everyone who followed the blog closely. I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to email me at auburn.hutton@kolotv.com or auburn.hutton@gmail.com.