I was standing in the newsroom and was just about to get into a lengthy conversation about Libya and whether the “rebels” would eventually be called “liberators” when someone said “the windows are shaking.” I thought that person was losing her mind until I felt the earth start to shake. I knew it was an earthquake.
I ducked under my desk and waited to see whether the shaking would get worse or stop. I noticed that no one else was getting under their desks. Instead, they stood around wondering whether it was a Metro accident, a bomb, an earthquake, or something else.
This was my third earthquake, and I’m pretty sure it lasted the longest. Every single phone in the newsroom started to ring. I grabbed my IFB (that’s the thing reporters and anchors put in their ear so they can hear the producers) and asked whether I needed to get on air. Then I saw JC Hayward.
She told me that she was in her office when it hit. She was then trying to leave. But she wasn’t going anywhere. Instead, she would be anchoring for the next few hours.
I was ushered out with a photographer in a live truck. At the first stop light we switched seats so he could film all the evacuated people standing near the roads. I drove directly to the US Capitol. Hundreds of people were standing around. People that work on the Hill were wondering whether it was an earthquake– or a repeat of 9/11. Tourists wondered whether they could get on the Metro.
We were up and running in a matter of minutes at the corner of Maryland and 3rd. It’s right in front of the Museum of the American Indian. One of the kids that was in the museum at the time told me he pulled a lever and thought he caused the building to shake…
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I arrived at Fletcher’s Cove a bit late and unprepared. My weekday training runs were both disasters. My “runs” became painful walks. My feet aren’t getting better. But I wanted to push myself Saturday. I wanted to run the full 15 miles. So I ran alone, with my music and my mind.
My goal: 
“I run this town!” I screamed as I ran past crowds of people ringing cow bells and wearing brightly colored wigs. I was in Chicago, wearing a pin-striped suit. It was obvious that I was a gangster. But I was running so fast that none of the cops could catch me. In fact– they just waved.
We got to the Iwo Jima Memorial at 6:15 a.m. The sun was rising over the Washington Monument. It was beautiful. There was no parking of course, so we found a spot next to Arlington National Cemetery. It’s the same place we park our live trucks when we need to get video of the cemetery.
