Last night I stumbled upon one of the most chilling and touching print journalism pieces I’ve seen in a while, courtesy of the Guardian’s Tania Branigan. It is painfully human and will make you want to cry. Here’s an excerpt from the article:
Tenderly, she eased the clean fleece over her little boy’s hand and up around his plump shoulder. The steady rain washing the town’s streets had chilled the usually warm Sichuan weather.
He didn’t look alarmed or frightened but dirt and blood were caked on his forehead. She touched his hair and then they pulled up the zipper on the bodybag and carried him away. Only her husband marked her howls. The whole street was seething with misery and anger. She had seen her son, at least; most of the children still lay in the rubble of Xinjian elementary school.
Four hundred and fifty pupils, aged between six and 12, were there when the quake hit yesterday at 2.28pm. A fortunate few were pulled out within hours by anxious parents scrabbling at the wreckage with bare hands. A handful more were saved overnight, after troops arrived to take over the rescue effort. Doctors were unsure how many had been taken to hospital - perhaps 15, perhaps 50.
What was certain was that hundreds more remained trapped and that hope was ebbing by the moment.
“There’s a slight chance they could save a few more now; probably not very many,” said a white-coated doctor.
Even the medics were raw-eyed and anxious. The sobs, wails and shouting mixed with sirens and the steady patter of rain. Under bright umbrellas, parents and relatives stood in whatever they grabbed when the quake hit: dressing gowns, slippers, straw hats. Some bore the bruises and scars of the previous day. Scores of doctors and nurses were waiting to help survivors from the school. But the scale of the challenge — and the collapse of the nearby hospital — meant that resources appeared to be limited. One child was carried to an ambulance by the arms and legs, apparently because there were not enough stretchers.
[…] Like many parents here, their mood was turning from raw grief to fury as they waited for news. Twenty four hours after the quake they were losing hope, and only rage was left. They blamed everyone: soldiers for coming too late, the builders for cutting corners, officials for — they claimed — siphoning off cash. “The contractors can’t have been qualified. It’s a ‘tofu’ [soft and shoddy] building. Please, help us release this news,” her husband said. “About 450 were inside, in nine classes, and it collapsed completely from the top to the ground. It didn’t fall over; it was almost like an explosion.”
His neighbour, still half hoping for a sight of her daughter, burst out angrily: “Why isn’t there money to build a good school for our kids? Chinese officials are too corrupt and bad.
“These buildings outside have been here for 20 years and didn’t collapse — the school was only 10 years old. They took the money from investment, so they took the lives of hundreds of kids. They have money for prostitutes and second wives but they don’t have money for our children.
“This is not a natural disaster - this is done by humans.”
4 responses so far ↓
1 B // May 14, 2008 at 9:52 pm
It’s sweet, but not journalism. So, yes, it’s still dead.
2 Fattsimous // May 15, 2008 at 12:04 am
It definitely journalism, just with a touch of poetry and sorrow. There information in there, perhaps bias, one could argue, but it’s real to me.
Some people here in China are terrified. Mark, I’ll send you an email I got from my friend in Xian. He’s a teacher there and the university students had a tough time with this. Many of them slept in the football field for the first nights since they were to scared of another quake.
3 Rawda // May 15, 2008 at 9:15 am
I’m actually going to look up this journalist and read her articles!
Unfortunately, whether we argue about the life and death of journalism, hundreds of thousands of people are dead all over the place in that area… I’m starting to think that there really is a man-made conspiracy.
Fatts I’m glad you’re OK.
4 mark // May 15, 2008 at 9:48 am
I’m glad you’re okay too, Fatts, and I’ll look forward to that e-mail.
And journalism doesn’t have to be devoid of feeling and expression to be excellent. In fact, the best articles describe real people and their emotions, rather than taking a macro-level “many people killed today, now for the weather” approach. There’s a difference between showcasing raw emotion in order to make a community’s story heard, and commercializing raw emotion to sell ad space à la CNN.
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