The unassembled finale

I realized one of my more immediate goals early on in my TV production career by producing & hosting a local history show, Pages Of Time. I had thought of the idea while doing a mini-cam remote in Grosse Ile on the history of trolleys, trains, and inter-urban transportation in Michigan.

I was so engrossed by that presentation that I wondered why suburbia's history wasn't presented more often. Detroit is obviously the focal point of all documentaries, but the suburbs had a rich history as well that wasn't just all about riverfront industry. I decided to fill that hole by immersing myself into detailed research that was a pleasure to do, was well-received by many older locals, and nearly won myself a production award in doing so.

Time constraints on my part limited its run to one season only. I shot much footage for the final show, but I never ended up putting it together.

When I was active in the field, I never had anything less than 100% motivation behind my efforts. If I was lagging, I knew something was wrong. It was extremely difficult (and ultimately proved impossible) for me to gather the footage I shot to detail the history of the Wyandotte Car Company, a major toy-maker during World War II.

Part of the reason, I hate to admit, was my discomfort of dealing with a museum manager who will remain nameless here. He eyed me suspiciously throughout the taping, as though I had a motive. I had no motive, unless you count the desire to publicize history as an instance. I could not be faulted for that, and yet here I was, anxious to just pack up the camera mid-way through the shoot while saying "Thanks, anyway." My professionalism carried me through that long afternoon, although I came home wondering why I made the trek there.

Editing the piece proved impossible. The atmosphere at the taping kept getting to me. And with that, a dragged-out feeling, knowing that not everyone appreciated their history being known. For what purpose, especially from a museum curator, I have no idea. Within two months, the program idea was dead, and it was unfortunate.

What was more unfortunate was the demise of this curator. I respect him enough to not detail what happened, but I will say I wasn't too surprised when I learned of the circumstances. It wasn't out of revenge that resulted in lack of surprise, but I just nodded my head and said, "It figures."

I also figured I saved myself a giant headache -- in spite of the result being that the program itself had died. I appreciate local history as much now as before, but much more so as a casual listener & appreciator, versus a documentarian.

Some things are just better left off for others to tape.