I sincerely hope someone understands this story. It’s terribly inside baseball in nature, but I know some folks will get it, and will enjoy the telling.
I am a local news videographer in our nation’s capital. Last week, on Thursday, was one of those days I would both enjoy remembering forever and despise having lived through it.
On Tuesday the word of impending indictments filtered down to us and we responded to the federal courthouse to go live and report the news.
Now in most American cities you can expect a response from the four major networks and a smattering of other media outlets. In DC the number of accredited, real news outlets number in the hundreds, and on days like Tuesday’s the Thursday response one can expect to be massive.
With that in mind on Tuesday night we pre-positioned a micro-satellite truck in front of the courthouse in expectation of Thursday’s events.
It must be explained that today most live television on the local and even national level is done using small ‘backpacks’ - the major companies being TVU, LiveU and Dejero. These backpacks take a signal from the camera, divide it between (usually) 6 cell phone data cards and send the video back to the station. A ten thousand dollar backpack effectively replaces trucks costing hundreds to millions of dollars.
The downside is that during times of extraordinary situations, large social gatherings where people are on their phones or when natural catastrophe has caused phone networks to fail the backpacks are worthless, overwhelmed by the competition. Thus we as a station, along with many of our competitors, maintain the old trucks and technology for when it may be needed. Therefore we parked Unit 3, a microwave / satellite truck in an area where normally our backpacks would suffice.
James, my assistant chief, had parked the truck and tested the microwave transmitter and succeeded in getting a live signal back to the station. From where it was parked the shot went just to the right of the Canadian Embassy. He then shut down the truck and hid the key in the generator compartment for other users. It must be noted that without power the microwave mast would not stay up (a safety feature) therefore it had been stowed. All was good for Thursday.
Come Thursday yours truly was set to operate the truck for the early and late evening live shots. Though scheduled 2pm to 12 midnight I came in earlier to make sure I had all my gear.
By 2pm I was being dropped off at the courthouse to go set up my shot. My earlier explanation of the numbers of media present were woefully inadequate. Beyond local, national, international and bureau crews of television and other media types there were crews who had driven in from New York, Philadelphia and other cities that usually do not attend. It far exceeded even my high expectations.
Nevertheless my duties were pretty straightforward. Establish a signal to the station and set up a camera position for our correspondents. Shoving my way through the throngs I entered the truck, fired up the generator and equipment racks and prepared to deploy the 52’ mast to establish the microwave signal.
With the various safety features satisfied (watch Look Up and Live on YouTube to better understand the dangers of microwave trucks) I hit the UP button to send the mast up.
Nothing. No compressor. No movement. Nothing.
Rechecking the configuration I realized the compressor had probably failed. Not unheard of in vehicles so rarely used but damned unlucky for me. Though I set up the Dejero as a backup the data throughput (5 megabytes the preferred rate) was running around 1.5 on average, far below our preferred numbers. 3 is our usual minimum.
So to satellite we went. I haven’t run a satellite shot in four to five years; Washington Nationals World Series victory parade I believe. Interestingly not 100 yards from where I was now. Satellite work is a skill that needs to be practiced to be useable and it had been years. I fortunately had created a user guide some 20 years ago for this truck and so that part didn’t worry me. I was much more concerned about something else.
What most people don’t know is that satellites are unmarked. You can’t just point a receiver into the sky and automatically determine what you are looking at. Technology does exist today that can determine satellites but in an older, irregularly used truck we don’t have that capability. Instead in the old days a regular user had a personal knowledge of what the return signals looked like on their favorite satellites (as displayed on the spectrum analyzer) or our usual cheat was to set a downlink decoder to a frequency for a known video. For example, CBS used to display the Dow Jones Industrial numbers on a certain transponder every day. Sweep the sky, find the Dow Jones and you knew you were on Galaxy 17.
Today CBS no longer sends that stuff on satellite. It’s all internet based. Satellite is reserved for occasional field events.
Thus I had no clue what I was looking at, and little hope of figuring it out as I had but a few minutes before we were supposed to go to air.
In a vain hope I swept the dish to and fro, trying beyond hope to get lucky. Finally, a bare 10 minutes before airtime I found a signal that I could decode. It was Major Garrett, correspondent for CBS, standing before this very courthouse!
I leapt from the truck and ran along the other satellite trucks - CBS? Are you CBS? Finally I found it near the opposite end of the line.
A quick explanation then I ask “What satellite are you on?”
“AMC3”
“I need Galaxy 16”
“That’s two satellites to the east, you can’t miss it.”
I raced back to the truck, searched and locked in, and with four minutes to spare I had established a signal. Here is where my deep addiction to Patrick O’Brian kicked in.
I leaned out of the truck and yelled to my live crew at the camera - “She swims!” I realized immediately that this would mean nothing to 99% of the population, but to me it seemed appropriate.
Then from an international crew next to me, German I think, the photog turned and shouted “Huzzay!”
And for a brief moment in a fucked up day, in a fucked up place, the world was a little better. Someone understood.