And then there was that bulimic bull given to other bizarre instances of self-mutilation…. I smell the makings of another potentially lucrative streaming procedural series there. And who’s to say some of that offal isn’t celebrated as a delicacy someplace like France? (Take only what you’ll eat and leave the rest.)
Around the same time, also at a very community-oriented daytimer in Quincy, MA, we had a daily feature, which I think might or might not have been titled “The Stork Club.” The station’s traffic manager took a daily break to announce the names and parents of newborns at two area hospitals the day before. Copy always read something like, “The blue blankets were rolled out at South Shore Hospital for (name of parents) who gave birth to (name of male newborn – and possibly weight?), and the pink blanket for… (well, you get the picture).
Another way we kept things local was including brief obituaries of ordinary people in the hourly newscasts that we obtained from local funeral homes called or calling in. People appreciated not having to wait for the daily paper, but these, of course put a damper on my otherwise already low octane flow of news. Thought of just dumping all the obits in a single daily feature to be called something like Gone but not Forgotten, “And the black carpet was rolled out at….” but wisely stifled the proposal. Say what you want about local orientation, I believe it was the last local station to be gobbled up by some national syndication behemoth. So there's that.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, going to pull up my 19th century Edinburgh collection of Burke and Hare memorabilia, if only to reassure no relation.
My first radio gig was a 500 W daytimer 40 miles S of Minneapolis. Farm reports,commodity prices,funeral notices,old time music and country music. It was great fun. And as you mentions,no money. But I loved every minute of it.
Mr. Moore, you are one of the greatest writers I have ever known. Thank you for your inspiration and gumption when I was a young, up-and-coming reporter. Once again, you have taken a story and made it a masterpiece. Cow anuses and aliens—#brilliant. You are my hero. ❤️
Man, buddy, you have just made my day. And to see you back working in the business, doing real journalism for your community, also makes me very happy. I was always impressed by your ability to get to the heart of a matter as a young guy. And you are still doing it. If I had anything to do with that, I'm very proud of the association. Holler at me if you ever pass this way.
What a crazy story! I can’t believe it isn’t solved! I was certain you’d announce the perpetrator and motive at the end. First thing I read this Sunday AM…. Currently trying to unsee the photos. A grizzly tale.
And they still haven't figured it out, Bridget. There were five bulls found on one ranch in Oregon last year, all exsanguinated and mutilated. No footprints, no prop wash, not a drop of blood anywhere. No arrest has ever been made, either, in the tens of thousands of these incidents over the past 50 years.
And then there was that bulimic bull given to other bizarre instances of self-mutilation…. I smell the makings of another potentially lucrative streaming procedural series there. And who’s to say some of that offal isn’t celebrated as a delicacy someplace like France? (Take only what you’ll eat and leave the rest.)
Around the same time, also at a very community-oriented daytimer in Quincy, MA, we had a daily feature, which I think might or might not have been titled “The Stork Club.” The station’s traffic manager took a daily break to announce the names and parents of newborns at two area hospitals the day before. Copy always read something like, “The blue blankets were rolled out at South Shore Hospital for (name of parents) who gave birth to (name of male newborn – and possibly weight?), and the pink blanket for… (well, you get the picture).
Another way we kept things local was including brief obituaries of ordinary people in the hourly newscasts that we obtained from local funeral homes called or calling in. People appreciated not having to wait for the daily paper, but these, of course put a damper on my otherwise already low octane flow of news. Thought of just dumping all the obits in a single daily feature to be called something like Gone but not Forgotten, “And the black carpet was rolled out at….” but wisely stifled the proposal. Say what you want about local orientation, I believe it was the last local station to be gobbled up by some national syndication behemoth. So there's that.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, going to pull up my 19th century Edinburgh collection of Burke and Hare memorabilia, if only to reassure no relation.
My first radio gig was a 500 W daytimer 40 miles S of Minneapolis. Farm reports,commodity prices,funeral notices,old time music and country music. It was great fun. And as you mentions,no money. But I loved every minute of it.
Interesting...
Yoiks! Perhaps a cult of mad, but highly skilled, veterinarians. Thanks for the story, and the creepy pics!
Apparently HIPAA wasn't a thing yet. Great piece, my friend.
It is obvious that the mind melting hospital report caused mass hysterical hypnosis and subsequent bovine mutilations. QED.
Mr. Moore, you are one of the greatest writers I have ever known. Thank you for your inspiration and gumption when I was a young, up-and-coming reporter. Once again, you have taken a story and made it a masterpiece. Cow anuses and aliens—#brilliant. You are my hero. ❤️
Man, buddy, you have just made my day. And to see you back working in the business, doing real journalism for your community, also makes me very happy. I was always impressed by your ability to get to the heart of a matter as a young guy. And you are still doing it. If I had anything to do with that, I'm very proud of the association. Holler at me if you ever pass this way.
What a crazy story! I can’t believe it isn’t solved! I was certain you’d announce the perpetrator and motive at the end. First thing I read this Sunday AM…. Currently trying to unsee the photos. A grizzly tale.
And they still haven't figured it out, Bridget. There were five bulls found on one ranch in Oregon last year, all exsanguinated and mutilated. No footprints, no prop wash, not a drop of blood anywhere. No arrest has ever been made, either, in the tens of thousands of these incidents over the past 50 years.