Crash Course: A Reporter's Journey into Prison
Comes from hand-written notes veteran reporter Pippin Ross had stuffed into an XL Men’s Nike shoebox. Ross says all reporters scribble notes on who/what/where and why to get the facts to print, or on air for the 5 o’clock news.
Crash Course is the first time her notetaking got personal.
Ross insists she had no intention of turning her experience into a book. When pressured, she responds as though reading from a script:
Crash Course is an unbiased, right-on-time extended investigatory feature. Her reporter-style delivery validates Crash Course as only the ‘stuff’ any incarcerated reporter would, and should, take notes on to document doing time behind rolls of razor-wire on top of metal fences. Ross is grateful her reporter training got names, titles and a lot of voices to put into 249 packed-pages of evidence.
She’ll tell you she didn’t like using, what she calls “fancy 1st person me-me-me’ words.” But admits the only way to tell the truth about her Crash and her Journey into Prison with details on her big mistakes required the use of I/Me/Us pronouns. Her motivation to turn it all into a book is in the quotes from women incarcerated with her, cops, judges, lawyers, prison guards, friends, family and, she says, ‘Everybody but me. That way, it confirms what I witnessed on the frontline: Correction doesn’t come from punishment. If you pay for it, justice may be served. Protection is not universal.
Ross’s colleagues, friends, and family are quick to say, she’s a risk-taker. As a former newsroom colleague said, “Ross has a knack to ‘sniff-out’, ‘sense’, ‘dig’ and have the ‘guts to go into back-alleys and ‘stumble’ upon wrong-doings. She digs danger. She’s got a nose for suspicion. She ignores advice to be careful. Cautious? Ha!”
Okay, so I have some character defects that almost killed me. But, betcha Crash Course will make you see there’s a lot to fix.