The Burger That Shattered Her Life

I remember reading this piece when it ran in the New York Times back in October of 2009. The author, Michael Moss, won the Pulitzer for explanatory reporting the following year. It's not a profile, but since we have the option to do our final piece as explanatory journalism, I thought it would be good to read.

It tells the story of 22 year-old dance instructor Stephanie Smith, who fell victim to the E. coli O157:H7 outbreak linked to Cargill ground beef (Moss's article was published two years after the outbreak). His piece  follows the path of the burger patty that left Smith in a coma for months, eventually paralyzing her and causing her to suffer organ failure, on top of other things, when she came out of the coma. I think her case was considered the most severe anyone had ever seen.

When I first read it in 2009, I had just gotten to K and hadn't been exposed to food justice issues just yet. The article stuck with me for months because the evils of industrial agriculture were new to me. It was the first time I ever thought about the origins of my food, and I've come a long way since thanks to the food culture on this campus and in Kalamazoo.

Profile (final): Kim Russell

Audience: The Index

Kim wears a different nail polish every week. Lilac puts her in an especially good mood. Her manicured nails are opaque but still shine from a distance. Along with her salon highlights, they add a much-needed glow to an otherwise dull ensemble: A pair of faded blue jeans, off-white sneakers. Like all Facilities Management workers, Kim is given an allowance to purchase clothes from the bookstore to wear while she works. She only buys gray because everything else is too flashy.

She’s happy when she wears lilac. She says she feels pretty. The next week she paints them gray. Maybe it’s just coincidence, or maybe it’s because of the rain, which causes her t-shirt to turn the same color as her nails, but Kim isn’t as cheerful on the days she paints them gray.

She doesn’t paint her nails this often because the color wears away from nine-hour days cleaning Hicks. Kim somehow manages to keep them in pristine condition as she begrudgingly cleans Dean Joshua’s office windows. After Dean Joshua filed a complaint with FacMan that her carpet wasn’t vacuumed thoroughly, Kim stopped taking her trash out as often. A few doors down, Kim empties Brian Dietz’s near-empty trash can because he’s nice to her.

At 9am, a voice comes onto the walkie talkie while Kim is cleaning the student leadership suite, which she says is always messy because of “those big girls who order pizza all the time.” The voice belongs to Kathy, another FacMan custodian. She says help is needed over in Severn. Kim divulges that the custodian responsible for the building was caught sleeping on the job, and after going three days without pay, he came back and retired. Kim turns her radio down.

“Kathy’s a real bitch. She’ll be over here just a bitchin.”

Twenty minutes earlier, Shane’s already grinning behind the security desk when Kim walks in. He teases her with a story and she smiles bashfully. She says be nice, or else she won’t take out their trash. It’s her favorite threat. These guys are the closest thing she has to friends on this campus, so she eggs them on. She heads toward the back of the office and returns a few minutes later with their carpet sweeper. Dave tells her she can’t keep taking it, that she’s racking up the fees. She walks out of the office with it and a grin.

She tells me that not everyone is nice to her around Hicks. She likes cleaning here but misses Hoben since they changed everyone’s placement this year. She misses the kids. She misses driving them to the mall or to the Amtrak station on the weekends or around campus in her red truck. She misses the girls from Texas, now seniors, who don’t stop to say hi to her anymore. During her lunch break, she used to sit in the Hoben lounge and wait for them to come by and gossip with her like high schoolers.

These days, she eats lunch in the Richardson Room with the same FacMan employees: Dylan, Stephanie and Mark. Some days she enjoys their company, like the day Mark reached for his phone to show everyone a video of Kim and another custodian playing in the sprinklers behind Hoben on a hot day last spring. It’s Girls Gone Wild, he says. Custodian style. Kim stops him before he gets to his back pocket, laughing. “You get outta here!” she says. Her eyes disappear from smiling so big. She likes when they pick on her. Mark says they target her because she takes it so well.

The next day, before she can finish throwing her trash out, the other three have already made their way down the hall to exit the building. Kim is annoyed because they’re supposed to walk out together, but she doesn’t yell for them to wait up.

“They do that sometimes,” she mumbles, resigned.

Ever since her best friend from childhood died 20 years ago, and her husband of seventeen years divorced her “for no reason”, Kim keeps mostly to herself. She says it’s because all of her friends want to party.

“Everybody tells me I’m boring.”

She prefers to stay at home and let her dog, Magnus, “man handle” her, while she paints or quilts or makes stained glass windows. Kim wants to be an artist. She’d quit her job if she could make a living out of it.

When she’s not creating something, she’s watching her favorite tabloid talk show, Maury, popularly known for its agonizing displays of baby mama drama and sexual infidelity.

“I wanna watch them idiots fight cause they’re so stupid.”

She’s convinced the talk show is a set up. It has to be. There can’t be that many stupid people in the world, she thinks. She likes Maury because it make her feel better.

“I think, maybe I don’t have it so bad after all.”

She doesn’t feel like changing when she gets home from work, so she stays in her faded jeans and gray Kalamazoo College tshirt while she watches Maury or quilts or plays with Magnus, until she goes to bed, putting it back on just a few hours later and returns to a sleeping campus at five am. She doesn’t mind the solitude those first few hours, but prefers when everyone is awake.

If she could go anywhere in the world, it would be Jamaica.

“I would probably go just ‘cause I know all the Jamaicans here and I probably don’t have to pay to stay anywhere.” She laughs and her eyes disappear again. She wants to go to Jamaica for the beaches, even though she won’t put a bathing suit on because she thinks she’s too fat.

“Although, if I was in Jamaica I would never see anybody again so I probably wouldn’t give a shit! Who cares, right?”

A fun day for Kim is when she, her sister and her friend Donna go quilt shop hopping for sales. When she tries to do something different, it never works out. Once she wanted to see a baseball game but couldn’t find her way into the parking lot.

“I got pissed off and went to the mall.” Malls are therapeautic for Kim.

She has no desire to find another husband or boyfriend. She misses her two grown boys but Magnus fills the silences of her home and the empty side of the bed at night.

She says her life was always quite simple. When she was still married, she took care of the pigs and cows on her countryside property in Otsego. She used to kill the animals for their meat, but stopped when she got attached to one of the pigs. Kim named her Precious.

Her husband let her keep the house and bought himself another property not too far away, so every once in awhile, she makes him come over to fix things for her. They’re not friends but they’ve learned to tolerate the other’s presence. She doesn’t mind him around. At least it’s company, she says.

Reading Response: Events of October

This book was a page-turner for me, which I attribute largely to its organization. I thought it was interesting that she chose to place the murder-suicide in the middle of the novel. This structure allowed her to address at length the effects of murder and suicide on a small college campus, so the book became much more than a narrative about the crime. It is about a community's response to it. After reading the murder-suicide that early on, I was left wondering how she would conclude the novel, but the organization makes sense given her ability to shed light on the bigger picture and larger issues. She zooms in (on the main event and campus response to it) in order to zoom out later on (on the larger implications for society and culture). 

I was also blown away by the magnitude of interviews she conducted, from Maggie Wardle's family and friends to college professors and legal authorities. These people lent a variety of perspectives that give readers access to the murder-suicide's effects on campus from various angles. I put the book down feeling like I had gotten a substantial, holistic view of the events. And as a student on this campus, I felt invested every step of the way, and I could empathize with the feelings of the many students and faculty members that Griffin interviewed. 

Even the second time around reading this, I was particularly interested in the way Griffin writes about Neenef and his friends. I remember the first time, I didn't know what to expect in terms of how she would treat him as a character and his actions, so I was surprised that she treated him and his friends with a lot of sympathy. I liked how she gives his friends a voice in the narrative as well, an outlet to express their grief as well as the grief of Maggie's friends and family. Again, she comes at the aftereffects of the events at many different angles to give readers a well-rounded understanding of something that affected different people in unique ways. This lays the groundwork for her to be able to address greater issues, like masculinity and its tie to culture and domestic violence. It also makes the situation that much more complex, another reason it was a hard book to put down. 

Process Writing: Profile of Kim Russell

I'm not sure there's a story here. My initial idea fell through, which was the interview the collage artists in Kalamazoo, so I needed to find a subject that I felt more secure with. I knew I'd be able to get access to Kim and see her work (she is the custodian in Hicks), which was important. Although I never got the chance to interview Kim at her home in Otsego, where she might have been more comfortable, I still felt like I caught her in her element. I woke up at 7am on various days to shadow her while she cleaned around Hicks.

I didn't know what the angle of my story would be when I went into it, and that was definitely a problem. There really wasn't a story there, but following Kim around shed a lot of light on her complexities. I think that was the angle I was going into this piece with: here is this woman who, on the most superficial level, seems to be quite simple and lead a simple life. But the more I dug, the more layers I saw. Observing her during her lunch break with other FacMan employees illuminated a lot of those complexities. I wanted to highlight her interactions with these people because that's when I was able to see a different, very vulnerable side of her.

I was afraid this would turn into one of those profiles we're supposed to avoid--a story about nice people doing nice things--especially after watching those first few interactions with other people, like the Security guards. People really adore her. But like I said, spending more time with her changed this initial impressions.

But does all of this translate on the page and actually make for a story? I don't know. You tell me!

Profile: Kim Russell

“Here’s our wet-n-wild Kim!” teases Mark. We’re sitting in the Richardson Room when he reaches for his phone so he can show me a video of Kim and one other member of the Facilities Management custodial staff playing in the sprinklers behind Hoben on a hot day last spring. It’s Girls Gone Wild, he says. Custodian style. Kim stops him before he gets to his back pocket, laughing. “You get outta here!” she says. Her eyes disappear from smiling so big. She likes when they pick on her. Mark says they target her because she takes it so well. Kim enjoys their company most the time. 

Everyday at 11:30, Kim eats lunch with the same FacMan employees: Dylan, Stephanie and Mark. I meet her at the end of her lunch hour the next day. Before she can finish throwing her trash out, the other three have already made their way down the hall to exit the building. Kim is annoyed because they’re supposed to walk out together, but she doesn’t yell for them to wait up. 

“They do that sometimes,” she mumbles, resigned. 

Kim doesn’t have a lot of friends. Ever since her best friend from childhood died 20 years ago, and her husband of seventeen years divorced her “for no reason”, Kim keeps mostly to herself. She says it’s because all of her friends want to party.

“I’m not a partier. I don’t party. I’m not a drinker. I’m not a dope smoker.” 

“Everybody tells me I’m boring.”

She prefers to stay at home and let her dog, Magnus, “man handle” her, while she paints or quilts or makes stained glass windows. Kim wants to be an artist. She’d quit her job if she could make a living out of it. 

When she’s not creating something, she’s watching Maury. 

“I wanna watch them idiots fight 'cause they’re so stupid.”

She’s convinced the talk show is a set up. It has to be. There can’t be that many stupid people in the world, she thinks. She likes Maury because it make her feel better.

“I think, maybe I don’t have it so bad after all.”

If she could go anywhere in the world, it would be Jamaica. 

“I would probably go just ‘cause I know all the Jamaicans here and I probably don’t have to pay to stay anywhere.” She laughs and her eyes disappear again. She wants to go to Jamaica for the beaches, even though she won’t put a bathing suit on.

“Although, if I was in Jamaica I would never see anybody again so I probably wouldn’t give a shit! Who cares, right?”

A voice interrupts her on the walkie talkie. It’s Kathy saying they need help over in Severn. Kim tells me the custodian responsible for Severn was caught sleeping, and after going three days without pay, he came back and retired. She mutters something mean about Kathy while she turns down her radio. She wears an amethyst ring on one of her fingers, drawing attention to her nails which are long and painted lilac, the way professionals do it. Her short auburn hair is combed neatly and shines. If it wasn’t so early in the morning, she might have just come from the salon.

A fun day for Kim is when she, her sister and her friend Donna go quilt shop hopping for sales. When she tries to do something different, it never pans out. Once she wanted to see a baseball game but couldn’t find her way into the parking lot.

“I got pissed off and went to the mall.”

Kim has no desire to find another husband or boyfriend. She misses her two grown boys but Magnus fills the silences of her home and the empty side of the bed at night. 

She says her life was always quite simple. When she was still married, she took care of the pigs and cows on her countryside property in Otsego. She used to kill the animals for their meat, but stopped when she got attached to one of the pigs. She named it Precious. 

Her husband let her keep the house and bought himself another property not too far away, so every once in awhile, she makes him come over to fix things for her. 

Around 8:30am, she walks into the Security Office. Shane and Dave grin. They’re expecting her. Shane teases her with a story and she just smiles. They have to be nice to her, or else she won’t take out their trash. She tells me that not everyone is nice to her around Hicks. She likes cleaning here but misses Hoben since they changed everyone’s placement this year. She misses the kids. 

She heads toward the back of the office and returns a few minutes later with their carpet sweeper. Dave tells her she can’t keep taking it, that she’s racking up the fees. She walks out of the office with it and a grin anyway. These guys are something like friends to Kim.

She wears the same outfit everyday. A pair of faded blue jeans, white sneakers, a gray Kalamazoo College t-shirt from the Bookstore. She doesn’t feel like changing when she gets home from work, so she stays in this outfit while she watches Maury or quilts or plays with Magnus, until she goes to bed, putting it back on just a few hours later and returns to a sleeping campus.

Intended publication...The Index?

Word Count: 905

Reading Response: Frank Sinatra Has a Cold

I thought that Gay Talese's Frank Sinatra profile engaged with a lot of the different questions and ideas we came up with in our last class--questions about accelerated intimacy, about who all to profile when you profile, about access.

Talese's profile was incredibly strong because you read it and hear the authority in his words. In this piece, his authority comes from (what I assumed was, and what Talese hints as) months of research. Even though much of the piece is grounded in one or two major events, he traverses an amount of time that isn't necessarily overwhelming to read, but I imagine is overwhelming to sort through and report. Acquiring all of that information--everything from Frank's childhood to his relationships and failed yet amicable marriages, to the bits about Dolly and Nancy Sinatra--requires a time commitment that we don't have in this class. Nevertheless, Talese's profile is a great model not just because of its literary qualities (like his incredible fiction-writing techniques), but because it proves that many interviews, and with people who are not the direct subject, really pay off. It's a good lesson to learn as we dive into our profiles.

I'm interested to hear what the rest of the class thinks about the ending of the profile, since my attention waned a lot when Talese writes about The Sands. I wanted to stop reading and skip to the end. I was specifically thinking about a section in Telling True Stories where it says that, if you start a piece off really strong, your readers will forgive you almost anything later on in the piece. What do you guys think? How far can we stretch our readers' patience and understanding?