Who was Alison Parker? She was your friend

The news of the murder live on-air of a Virginia news crew has shaken newsrooms across the country and around the world. Here at WWAY, it’s been an especially painful morning for Managing Editor Elizabeth Bynum, who not only knew one of the victims, but called her a friend. Elizabeth shares her thoughts.

I remember the first time I saw Alison Parker. It was on a computer screen. Another reporter reel. We were trying to fill a reporter vacancy at WCTI in New Bern. We needed someone in our Jacksonville bureau. Not everyone is cut out for that. It takes someone who is a go-getter and not afraid to run a mini newsroom alone. I remember seeing a pale, bright-eyed blonde straight out of college with energy and a hint of geeky. She stood out.

I remember the first time I met Alison Parker face-to-face. Many times when you hire someone, talking on the phone and in person can be very different. I was so relieved to meet her, because talking to her in person solidified my gut instinct. This is not a 22-year-old girl looking for a job. She’s something. I knew that not only was she a good hire, but I sensed she would be a good new addition to our news family. Alison covered any story you gave her. Alison was not afraid to do anything. She had spunk. She had sass. She also had that hint of nerd that made you like her. She had no ego. She just wanted to do her job and tell a story.

I remember when Alison Parker came into the newsroom. You heard her before you saw her. She was loud. We were, however, always happy to see her. She lit up the room. She would come in, say something funny or silly, then immediately flip the switch to news mode and crank out her story.

I remember when Alison Parker made ridiculous faces before going on live TV. I wish I had pictures of her before live shots. I wish I had made an “Alison Blooper Reel.” Before you saw a beautiful, polished woman on camera, I had the privilege to see a goofy face, or a gal who was super stressed out (usually for no reason, but she was Type A. She wanted to do it right). I talked to her through a little earpiece. I either told her, “Ohhh, so beautiful. Please make that face in 30 seconds,” or I gave her a pep talk. That was the best memory I have of her as a former employee: coaching her through the stressful times, hugging her through the tough times and giving her tough love when she needed it (and she asked for it – she knew it made her better). In news, we are a family. Many times, I was the newsroom mom, especially for the people right out of college. I loved being her coach. I loved being her colleague. I loved being her friend.

I remember learning about the Alison Parker out of the newsroom. She was adventurous, going whitewater rafting with her family. She was family-oriented; bringing her family by to meet her news family. She was a dancer, which made me ecstatic. We joked that I needed her to be my body double in dance, because she was so beautiful and tall, like a prima ballerina. Of course, after that statement, she contoured her body in such a way that you would think she was an abstract sculpture. There’s that nerd again. Dancers are often very frumpy and silly off stage, but you only see the beautiful costumes and elegant demeanor. Alison Parker was a perfect combination of grace and geek. I loved it. I loved her.

I remember when Alison Parker told me she got a new job in Roanoke. She was nervous but excited. It’s like she didn’t want to make Mom mad that she didn’t want her to drive her up to school anymore or something. But we all knew she was destined for bigger and better things. She glowed. She got a job doing the “fun side of news” – a morning show reporter. She got a job back in her home state, in her home market. It was a dream come true for her. We were so excited for her, but we knew she would be missed. That energy. That drive. That personality.

I remember the last time I saw Alison Parker before this horrible day. It was a beautiful, candid shot of her and her boyfriend. It was a postcard photo. I thought, “Man. That guy loves her. Look at how he’s looking at her.” Then I thought of her, blushing and making a silly face at the thought of it. She was so happy. I was so happy for her.

I am honored to have known Alison Parker. I am honored to have worked with her. I am honored to have been her friend, not just a boss. That’s not how news is. You go through so much together. You have to report on things from murders to military homecomings. A wide range of emotions. Nobody understands that life. That’s why we are a family. We also tend to live nowhere near home. We rely on each other — both in filling a newscast and in filling our hearts.

Alison Parker was not just a reporter who died doing her job. Alison Parker was a friend. That’s how I will remember Alison Parker.