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Searching for the Truth

CBS’s 60-Minutes was planning to run a segment on their show about CECOT and what they deemed  “brutal and tortuous conditions.” But then the segment was pulled from the show in the US, reportedly due to pressure from the Trump Administration. Apparently, 60-Minutes in Canada didn’t get the memo, and the segment was aired in Canada. It then made it to social media, and many people in the US, along with independent media outlets saw the episode. Supposedly it has since been removed from YouTube, citing copyright infringement by CBS, but I haven’t verified that fact.

From what I understand the episode was chilling, but the contents of that episode is not really what this blog post is about.

This current bending of the knee by CBS is another example of how the free and open press in our country—something that is supposed to be enshrined in our First Amendment—is eroding.  Our traditional media outlets are looking far different from when I was studying journalism in college, a decade before Reagan killed the Fairness Doctrine.

I have been writing for most of my life. My first novel at age 14. In high school, I was on the school paper, and its co-editor my senior year.  I studied journalism in college. At age 19, I wrote a screen play for one of my classes, which I later made into a book. At age 21, I wrote and produced a TV documentary for my senior project, that was aired on an educational TV channel in Southern California. In my thirties, I was the editor and publisher of a publication serving the communities of Wrightwood, Phelan, and Pinion Hills, California, called Mountain/Hi-Desert Guide, for about six years. 

In my forties, I wrote and self-published a book on local history, that I believe is still being sold in the Havasu Museum, and I wrote Lessons, an unconventional love story that I self-published over a decade later, and it was eventually made into a five book series, and its audio rights sold to Dreamscape Media.

These days I am known—by people who know me and I am not claiming to be some well-known author, I’m not—for the Haunting Danielle series, which currently has 37 books, and got me on the USA Today Bestseller list.

My point being—and yes, I do have a point—since I first started writing I have moved from fiction to non-fiction—and back again.

Those who took English with me in high school might remember I was probably the only classmate who looked forward to doing the term paper. I LOVED doing term papers. Seriously. I loved the research, which back then, meant visiting libraries and conducting interviews. We didn’t have the internet yet, and I was going to school in the remote community of Lake Havasu City, Arizona, so library access was limited.

When I was editor of Mountain/Hi-Desert Guide I regularly interviewed local people of interest, local politicians, and even got representatives from the county government and sheriff’s department to submit monthly columns to the publication. 

But my favorite was researching and writing about local history. Sometimes during my research, I would end up dispelling an accepted story on local history and set the record straight. I was somewhat obsessive about drilling down to find the source of the source. 

This was in the 1980s, and we still didn’t have the internet in Wrightwood. I often drove off the hill to visit some of the larger libraries and often visited the California Room in one of those libraries.

After one such visit and continually finding conflicting information from what appeared to be reputable sources, I asked one of the research librarians a question. 

The question: When you keep coming up with different stories about the same event, how do you know which one to use?

Her reply: Which ever version has been told the most frequently.

Her answer troubled me. It wasn’t what I expected—and it’s entirely possible that if I had asked another librarian the same question, they would have given me a different answer. But this is the response that I was given.

I find it especially troubling considering our current administration, especially with the pressure it’s exerting on corporate media outlets.

I keep thinking about the strategy used by many in this administration—if you repeat a lie enough, it will eventually be accepted as truth.

That lie ends up filling all the space, and suddenly we believe what they want us to believe.

We all need to be cognizant of how AI, coupled with our addiction to social media, makes it easier for someone with an agenda to overwhelm us with a false narrative—eventually replacing the truth.

And what makes this scarier—is when the folks with the agenda have the power to lock down the entities holding evidence of the truth.  Or in simpler terms, re-writing history.

(Photo: Bobbi Holmes. Early days of Mountain/Hi-Desert Guide, its first office in the basement, before moving to its downtown office.)

Distinguished Alumni Award…

Tomorrow The Ghost and the Medium (Book 30 in the Haunting Danielle series) eBook hits the digital shelves—it’s also Lake Havasu High School’s graduation night. That’s where I graduated from high school, fifty years ago.

During tomorrow’s graduation ceremony they will be handing out the awards for this year’s recipients of LHHS Distinguished Alumni awards. There are two recipients this year, and I happen to be one of them.

This is the first time in over thirty years that I won’t be in Havasu during May. So, the speech I am supposed to give at tomorrow’s ceremony will have to be delivered by someone else. These days, I can’t travel without first arranging for someone to take care of my mother. At the moment, the only person I have to do that is my sister, who would have to fly up from California, and she is already doing that in July, so we can attend a family reunion for my husband’s side of the family. 

When deciding what photo to include with this post, I chose the photo that will be on the plaque for the award, along with one of my high school mementos—my letterman’s sweater. (Or is it letterperson????)

I attended Lake Havasu High School the first year it opened, when I was a sophomore. During my senior year I was a song leader aka pom. That was the year the London Bridge officially opened in Lake Havasu City. Our pom squad marched in the opening parade, which is why I have that patch on my sweater.

But what I was most involved in during high school was journalism. I was on the Knight Life (the school newspaper) staff for all three years, serving as Art Editor, and then Co-Editor during my senior year. It’s where my heart was—which explains the two pins from my membership in Quill and Scroll..

Yet looking back, I probably won’t be remembered by classmates as a pom or journalism geek. I suspect I will be remembered as the girl who drove a boat to school.

Since I can’t be there to deliver the speech personally, I thought I’d go ahead and post it here:

To the 2022 Graduating Class of Lake Havasu High School, the staff, students, fellow alumni, family, and friends here tonight…

This is probably the first time in the last thirty plus years that I haven’t been in Havasu during the month of May. Please do not interpret my absence as a sign I take this award lightly. I am both humbled and honored to be one of this year’s recipients of the Lake Havasu High School’s Distinguished Alumni Award. Thank you to the Alumni Selection Committee for this recognition.

Lake Havasu High School holds a special place in my heart. I was a member of its first sophomore class, and its third graduating class, in 1972.

To the graduating class of 2022, you are all standing where I was—fifty years ago. What advice might I pass on after a half century after high school graduation?

First, never let another person’s success make you feel like a failure. In fact, it should be just the opposite. See it as inspiration and validation of what is possible. And when you have a failure, learn from it. As an author, I see my failures as story fodder. For me, I often weave those back into a plot for one of my books. Even if you are not an author, your failures are valuable experiences. Spend them wisely to build a better future for yourself.

Whatever your dreams are in this moment, don’t be discouraged if you don’t obtain them in your designated timeframe. Life often gets in the way of what we have planned. Looking back over these last fifty years, I see my own life has taken numerous unexpected turns, sending me off course and down roads I had never anticipated traveling. 

Before I entered Lake Havasu High School in 1969, I knew what I wanted to be—an author. In fact, I had already written my first book. And while writing was always part of my life, it was forty years after high school graduation that I became a full-time author, and six years after that when I became a USA Today Bestselling Author.

It doesn’t matter how long you take to obtain your dream, what truly matters is that you enjoy your life along the way and keep mindful of what is most important—family and friends—and taking care of your health. That’s something many of us learn too late.

While it might sound like forty years is a long time to reach my dream—the sad part—those forty years went very fast. Too fast.

I imagine you would like this speech to go fast too, so I will leave you with my last suggestion. Whatever you choose to do in life, it is more fulfilling to enrich or bring something positive into another person’s life, as opposed to bringing them sadness or tears. I suspect the only career one should feel good about making another person cry is mine.

Congratulations to the 2022 Graduating class of Lake Havasu High School. Enjoy your next adventure and treat yourself with kindness, patience, and respect. 

The day they locked me up.

JailAThon

Going through the pictures stored on my computer I came across this photo taken about eleven years ago. It’s the one and only day I’ve ever been in jail. To be honest, it was for charity, a Jailathon fundraiser for our local museum.

The jail is the real deal, used in the early days of Lake Havasu City, a place where authorities would hold prisoners until they were either released or transferred to Kingman.  I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to be locked up in that thing during the summer. It can get over 120° here!