THE ART OF THE GET

Illustration by Rob Weiss

Welcome to a new MMM feature titled “The Art Of The Get”.

It’s a closeup portrait of street soldiers embedded around the country to harvest the juiciest scoops often splashed on tablet-shaped pages (and screens).

They are undervalued. Casually discounted. Hell, The Grey Lady pejoratively referred to its field reporters heading out of their Midtown offices to hunt for quotes and color as “Legs”.

So as a veteran of this tribe who chased crime all over Gotham as well as across the country — I think it’s time we spotlight those taglined or relegated to doing some of the heaviest lifting so that the manicured-handed deciders back at HQ can be content as they conjure what beverage will pair best with their steak tartare come power lunchtime.

All the while, most street reporters are pecking at brown bags filled with snacks to graze throughout the day. Maybe some leftovers if it’s we’re lucky.

The ones who chase on two feet nonstop to score leads and brave the elements, the occupational hazards — take guff from the subjects, their bosses, and the authorities among others just to score some color, or better — a quote or a snap.

They deserve far more credit.

Few understand how demanding the work is for a street reporter; especially in a big metropolis competing against time (preparing for all kinds of weather, getting there first).

Why?

Because other journos from the competition — be it print or television are scraping for the same scoops. It may be a big town, but a good story is rarely proprietary. Not only are you working to one-up the other reporters and their fotags — you’re trying to outthink the security details, the PR pros, the cops, firefighters, hospital gatekeepers, the lawmakers (and their comms), lawyers, hucksters, neighbors, witnesses, false witnesses, curiosos (these are sometimes referred to as “moths”or “fireflies”), not to mention couch detectives, scanner nerds, gossips, drug dealers (anytime there’s a stakeout in a particular block known for narcotics — the trade is forced to go on hiatus), paparazzi, autograph/memorabilia fanatics, doormen, bodyguards, door slams… and all the while trying to tame their bladders from the on-the-go grub meals to zip over to other callings. So it’s not just chasing sirens but staring at doors, shimmying up and down fire escapes, dancing with the law as they widen the crime scene tape, and or ticketing your car for that harebrained parking job.

All of it… to get the gets.

For two decades Kerry Burke has been the undisputed Gotham reporter champ, chasing mostly crime and whatever the tabloid gods have in store du jour. He giveth his soul to The New York Daily News. He’s more or less minted the "murders and mayhem" beat for which this shingle would draw.

Kerry is a Boston-bred cat (specifically Dorchester) who “grew up fast and hard”. Managed to school himself about the world and its goings-on by sneaking some articles while hawking The Boston Globe and what he fondly salutes as “the heart and soul” of the city.

Its ink seeped into his pores.

He managed to polish his “write and file” mantra at Columbia University School of Journalism.

The culture writer dove headfirst into the quicksand of cutthroat breaking news. Kerry forced The News back in 2002 to hire him. And despite being turned away, Kerry didn’t let himself become crestfallen.

Like some of the greats, Kerry secured a “tryout” — where the desk sent him fetching and stepping on stories to see how he would do.

And he made the most of it.

His first story partially cracked the mythical front page (known amongst tabloid speak as “The Wood”).

The story was “Honeymoon Turned Bloodbath”. (The word “blood” or some form of it — “bloody”, “bloodshed” is used seven times!)

The goal was to become a war correspondent. Instead, Kerry became one of the most coveted city reporters.

Kerry’s craft was put on display back in 2006 in the breakout star during Bravo's short-lived series "Tabloid Wars" which shadowed a handful of reporters and desk staffers at the News scouring town to beat out The Times and most critically The Post — along with TV people for exclusives.

I met Kerry that same year at the ambulance bay of the now-defunct St. Vincent’s Hospital. He questioned me — thinking I could be a witness to a cabbie who hopped a sidewalk and clipped several tourists. After an endless night of hurry-up and wait, he told me to get tougher. I had no clue we were supposed to be questioning every soul that would come and go into the ER in hopes they might have some kind of connection to the maiming hack horror show.

Kerry was one of the best preppers I’d ever known. In his knapsack, he always has reading materials, some veggies or fruit, and his signature daily manna: a plastic pint loaded with mush; made of muesli and yogurt.

From The Awl…

Stakeout food. Years ago I had this girlfriend who pointed out that I lived off of slices of pizza, Chinese takeout and beer, and that this would eventually kill me. She was right. She turned me onto yogurt and muesli. It tastes like paste, but it's clean, it's cheap and it's fuel. So everywhere I go I got this container of yogurt and muesli. I also carry cameras, flashlights, binoculars, notepads, pens, unread mail. I got bills in my bag and a newspaper to read. I have an iPad, which, in theory, I can file stories on, but that's been a bad investment because the iPad connection just doesn't really work when you need it. I have a charger, some plastic gloves, a Hagstrom map of the five boroughs, an umbrella and a checkbook, because the dirty side of the business is that sometimes I have to buy pictures

He is one-of-a-kind. One of the hardest, heaviest, and unflinching reporters in the game. And he’s been known to run on every story like it’s 9/11 (which he also covered… as he told me everybody was running for their lives uptown… but Kerry along with other reporters trailed behind the city’s first responders to make it downtown to the Ground Zero rubble).

*EDITOR’S NOTE: This interview was logged in January. For a variety of reasons it languished. The content has been edited for brevity and continuity.

M.L. NESTEL (ML):
KERRY BURKE (KB):

---

▀ Chasing Sires, Knocking Doors, Hurry Up And Wait, Dress The Part, No Such Thing As Brakes…

KB: By way of introduction, my name is Kerry Burke.
I'm a breaking news reporter for The New York Daily News.
I've been in the game for The Daily News just over 20 years… I'm an Irish Catholic from the inner city Boston. I grew up in a neighborhood called Dorchester, which if you want to make a very inexact analogy is Brooklyn for Boston. I'm the son of a single mother, one of seven. We grew up fast and hard. I was getting out. And by that, I mean, I had to travel the world, get an education. And I want to get out. And of course, that eventually meant going moving to New York. And yeah, I moved to New York…

▀ ‘How Did You Get In The Building?’

Pushed my way into the day years ago, figuring out who the city editor was [and] getting into the building with stories to pitch him. They gave me a tryout and told me at the same time they'd never hire me because they didn't know who I was. And I said, “Okay, we'll see.”

My first day of the job, I did a story called Highlight. I was a part of the front page of the board… Yeah. But that was my introduction was The Daily News.

They were like, “Well, who are you?” and “How did you get to the building?”So they didn't know who I was. And my whole training was: find a desk. So I found a desk. I was walking up and down the newsroom, which was massive back then. There were hundreds of people working at The Daily News.
…
And I realized that these, there's men here and women who had been sourced for generations. There were people who could write like the wind; clean, tight. And inhumanely fast.

And I had to figure out what I could do for The Daily News so they'd hire me.

I'm from the old neighborhood. I told them I'm from the old neighborhood. I'm not afraid of anything. I'll go anywhere. Anytime. And I'll bring back the story. And so they're like, again, “Who are you?” and “How did you get the building?”

And so I found a desk and I was looking at the Action Sheets, which is something the Deputy Commissioner of Public Information (DCPI) — the press bureau of the New York City Police Department.

And I saw an “aggravated assault” at an address where that sort of thing doesn't happen in the East 30s. So I was like, “Well, that shouldn't happen here. Those folks, they don't tear things up. They move to the suburbs.”

So I went out and there was this massive crime scene. And I was like, ‘OK, this is a story!’ And I saw this old dear struggling with shopping, shopping.

And I straightened my tie and said, ‘Do you need a hand?’ And I took her underneath the police tape because she lived in the building. And I got up and I took her to her floor. Then I started walking the elevator to find out what floor this incident took place on. And then it turned out to be this honeymoon. This couple just got back from a honeymoon. She sobers up.
”Who are you?” I can't do this. He loses his mind, stabs her repeatedly. She runs out into the hall, bleeding all over the place. He barricades himself in the bathroom, turns the knife on himself. She turns out to be a named lawyer at a white shoe firm.
He turns out to be the guy who manages the 99-Cent store.
And so I talk to neighbors and they tell me everything. And I walk out of there with my first story for The Daily News. And suddenly they have to wonder, they have to figure out — “Who this guy, Kerry Burke, is?”

So that was like my first day.

And after that I just kept going out. I kept running on stories and turning them around.

---

▀ ‘That’s the Wood, baby!’

ML: What is the wood, Kerry?

KB: The wood is the front page. Because once upon a time when the tabloids started, that the wood screamed. And huge, huge headlines.
And if they pressed that with hot type, it would burn through the paper. So the huge letters were pressed with wood. So that was the origin of the term…

▀ ‘I really learned to read with the Boston Globe!’

KB: I mean, I virtually I really learned to read with the Boston Globe, which is it is a broad. It was a broadsheet and the heart and soul of journalistic Boston and even New England.
Yeah. And when I was a kid, I used to deliver and sell the Globe.
And they just dropped the bundles outside my house.
And I used to peddle the Globe. And then I used to read.
I used to read the Globe. It was my education. Frankly, I mean, I was this Boston school system was failing. I went to some of the best and some of the worst schools. But I always I always read the Globe. It not only opened the world to me, it educated me. And I could teach the history class. I could teach the social studies class because I read about.
The Boston Globe. I understood Washington.
I understood City Hall. I knew it was happening all over the world, all over the nation and even the world for the Boston Globe. So, yeah, I wanted to be a newspaperman.

KB: Well, the newspapers were the engines of democracy.
And it breaks my heart to say they were the past tense, because frankly, for for a quarter, 50 cents, the Boston Globe was on my kitchen table, and that's something that everybody and anybody could read. And now newspapers are dying.
They're they're thin slip pamphlets and they cost three and four dollars. The Daily News cost three dollars. The New York Times, my Sunday Times cost six.

ML: It's like nine bucks.

KB: Right. Right. Nine bucks. Yeah.
That's a long way from the day when I could win The Globe.
The Boston Globe was it was on my kitchen table for 25 cents, 50 cents. So they're not the engines of democracy anymore because people can't afford them.
They're not accessible.

ML: What are they now? What would you decide? What would you call them?

KB: Well, that's a tough one. It's a tough one because, I mean, you need a computer, you need Wi-Fi. And that's that's that's the not everyone can afford that. Not everyone has that.
So they're not wide open. They're reaching a smaller and smaller audience. And that's that's that's a real problem.

ML: That's do you do you feel like I see we can get more into this.
I want to still get into your path a little bit. But do you feel like the gatekeepers are few and far between now? I mean, who are the sentries now?

KB: Well, I mean. The real problem. Well, everything's gotten so diffuse. I mean, and the people that are that are deciding what is information. People like the News Corp and Sinclair and yeah. And okay, The New York Times. But The New York Times is expensive. And it's, and everyone else around them. All the competition is dying. The Washington Post. I mean, great. Those are still great, great newspapers. But there are too few of them and they're too expensive.

KB: I used to read when I was in college.
I used to go to library and read all the papers.
Yeah, it was great. But, that's not anyone could do that.

ML: I know. I know. So and I also think one thing I was before I forget is especially New York City. The subway.
If you didn't have a newspaper, you could tell the people who read the newspaper because they had the ink on their fingers.

KB: Right.

ML: Know what I mean? Like it was almost a badge of honor.

KB: Right. Well, The New York Daily News is a great newspaper.
I mean, it's well, well, it's tough because now it's owned by a hedge fund and the hedge funds are bleeding. Well, hedge funds are bleeding it dry. With the other papers that the hedge fund owns. Yeah. With the hedge funds. And that's a yeah. Yeah.
That's a tough place to be. I fear for the republic.

Well, the newspapers were the engines of democracy.
And it breaks my heart to say the were the past tense, because frankly, for for a quarter, 50 cents, the Boston Globe was on my kitchen table, and that's something that everybody and anybody could read. And now newspapers are dying. They're they're thin slip pamphlets and they cost three and four dollars. The Daily News cost three dollars. The New York Times, my Sunday Times cost six. I mean, nine more than that… That's a long way from the day when I could win the Globe. The Boston Globe was it was on my kitchen table for 25 cents, 50 cents. So they're not the engines of democracy anymore because people can't afford them.

---

▀ ‘Who's responsible for this? Who does this for us? And they told the editor, “Well, you fired him last week!”’

ML: Kerry, you told me you once told me again personally, but you once told me you can don't love a newspaper too much. It'll never love you back. You told me that. I remember a lot of your quotes, by the way.

KB: That's true. That's true. Yeah. Because, I worked for The Daily News for roughly 18 years and there was a new ownership. And I was out overnight. The latest owner, someone in Chicago opened a spreadsheet, fired more than half the paper without really any regard to who they were or what they did. So, I mean, yeah. So, I mean, fortunately, I mean, what happened was about a week later, there was a quadruple homicide in Queens.
Awesome. And an academic killed this whole family event himself.
And The Daily News threw everything at it and came up empty.
And then they were like, well, who does this? Who's responsible for this? Who does this for us? And they told the editor, ‘Well, you fired him last week!’… And they can't.
They hired him back.

ML: But you're not a – I don't know how you found the crime bug.
But, like, from my recollection, you – I mean, you grew up – I know you grew up in some tough bricks. But I'm saying, like, you learned to read for the Boston Globe. You're hawking The Boston Globe. You really grew up around a newspaper. You have that language. But then New York comes calling. I don't – how did New York come to you? Or how did you flee Boston?

KB: Well, I got here. I got here in a Greyhound the day after I graduated. And then I just tried to figure out how to earn a living. But I wanted to be a newspaperman.
And that took some – that took quite a while.
I mean, it's just – you just – I mean, I became a – well, I sold what I knew. I used to drink hard and dance with the girls down front. And I have a highfalutin education. I went to Bowdoin. And I became a rock critic. I knew all the joints. I knew all the independent record labels. I knew all the bands before they, as they were emerging. And that's something I could sell. I could write about. So I helped. I was part of a thing called Metro Beat, which turned into City Search. And I really got my start as a rock critic. But again I needed to, I had to figure out something I could sell to get my, to start a new career… But it's more complicated than that because I had a good thing. I had a good thing going as a rock critic, but I didn't want to be a rock critic. I don't get wrong. I loved it.
But it's not what I want to do with my whole life. I still had this, I wanted to be a newspaperman. And I went to Columbia, Columbia Journalism School… I did really well there.
But that's because I was already a working journalist.

ML: Writing file, that's what you told me.
Yeah. You said, you said that when you got there, you started just writing and filing, writing, filing, you told me.

KB: Right. But then I got out and I had nowhere to go.

---

▀ The Game Has Changed

KB: I had to figure things out.
What I was going to do was, well, the plan was I was going to be a war correspondent. But I was in touch with a, with a friend of mine from England who was a shipping journalist and he knew the planet. And I figured I'd go and I'd chase a war. But I also, I would have to do that on my own dime.
And I just dropped all my money going to Columbia and I had to get a job. And again, it was figuring out what I could sell.
And that's where The Daily News I pushed my way in there. Dropped what names I knew to plague the City Desk.
And they gave me a tryout.
And, I just, I went to work.

ML: Who was your, who was your editor then?

KB: Dean Chang. Oh, yeah. Yeah.

ML: Dean Chang, who, who, when he left the newsroom, got a standing ovation.

KB: Yeah. Oh, yeah. Well, Dean Chang is great.
Now he's, he's with us at The New York Times. So I went anywhere, anytime on any story and I brought it back. I used to be the road warrior.
A plane would go down in, in, in Georgia and I'd be on the next flight out. A bridge would go into the Mississippi and I'd be on the next flight out. I did that for a while. I loved it.
But that newspapers don't have the budget for that sort of thing.

ML: Talk to me a bit about that because, see, like, I know for a fact, this is because it's interesting to me because people don't understand tabloid. But when you're traveling with, with, with your paper, one, they trust you. Yeah. But it's expensive because you're out there, what, on an average three days, sometimes more.

KB: Oh, yeah. I remember being out for weeks. Okay. But… It was over, I know it was over when Hurricane Katrina, because I was, I was packing. I forget, I'm on my way to New Orleans. And they went, “No, we're a New York paper. You're a New York guy. You're staying.”

▀ End of the ‘Lobster Trick’

*CONTEXT: The End Of The 'Lobster Trick' And The Slow Death Of Overnight NYC Tabloid Journalism’ (By: JB Nicholas / «SOURCE»)

ML: So, so for those that don't understand though, tell us, walk us through, cause like there's the day shift and there's the night shift. And I wanted to also talk to you about, because this is important. New Yorkers may not even know this, but at one point there was a 24 hours, seven days a week covering the news in New York. Covering, by the way, every single murder in New York and going to the scene. And that's not the case anymore.

KB: Well, The New York Daily News covers every murder.

ML: 24/seven?

KB: Well, we get there the next day now. But I've worked every shift, excluding shifts that don't exist anymore. I did the overnight. I did the overnight.

ML: Tell me about the overnight. What's the overnight?
Tell, what's the hours and what does it entail?

KB: That was from 1230 to 830.
Okay.

ML: Sometimes starts earlier than that though.
But yeah.

KB: Right. But, oh yeah, of course. I mean.

ML: Because they'll bring you on early if something's popping.
Right.

KB: Yeah. They always brought you, they always brought you on early. Yeah. And you never got off before 8:30.
And it was punishing because, and also back then, because I was broke, I was also working some day shifts.

ML: Wow. So what were you, how many hours were you pulling?

I knew it was over when Hurricane Katrina, because I was, I was packing.
I forget, I'm on my way to New Orleans.
And they went, no, you're, we're New York paper, you're a New York guy, you're staying.

---

▀ ‘We met at St. Vinny’s!’

ML: St. Vinny's, sorry, St. Vincent's Hospital.
That's where I met you.

KB: That's not where, that doesn't exist anymore.

ML: Yeah, so you and I met you, I met you in the emergency room right outside the emergency room of St. Vincent's Hospital.
That's where we met. What story?
A taxi car had careened off, or careened onto the sidewalk and like crashed into like six people.

«SOURCE»

KB: Oh, okay.

ML: What happens when you get to a stakeout, what is your method?
Like how are you tackling something like that?

KB: Especially the thing is when I cut, when I got to the news, um, I, I saw, um, it was a different era.
There were, there were, there were shifts around the clock.
There were, um, 24-hour teams like from television.
There was a real pack, uh, and packs plural, um, all chasing the same information. And, but, and, and it was, it was pretty chaotic and cutthroat. Um, what I tried to do was come up with a method, um, a method of handling, um, different situations.
I noticed the pack hangs together. Um, whereas I didn't stay with them.
I would do a, I would, uh, I would, uh do a perimeter walk.
The bravest thing I ever did wasn't facing down gang bangers or, or, or bang or, or going up against the police. It was leaving the pack and going somewhere else while they stayed with, they were getting the same stuff. I went in another direction.
I would do a perimeter walk.
I do all sides and I keep my eye on the pack, but I wouldn't, I didn't I didn't chase the pack… Well, the other things I would do is, um, I'd, uh, work from the inside out. I mean, I just noticed that everyone was there. They were, people were focusing their energies, I think too soon. And in the wrong, in the wrong, in the wrong place, I would get as close to the center of the action and then work my way out from there. I pick off, if I saw something remarkable. I deviate from that, but my 12th plot was get into the center and then work my way out.

---

▀ ‘The Old Tabloid War’

ML: What were some of the, what were some of the moves that you made? Cause like, I mean, you've done everything from throw up a rope and shimmy a side of a burning building and like get, get a microphone in there and bring the, bring the cat safely to, to rescue on top of it.

KB: I mean, yeah, I've always improvised.
I mean, you look for the cat.
You look for, you look for ways in, you look for advantages.
You take chances. Um, and yeah, that's, that's an ad.
They do that on an ad hoc basis.
You just figure out what's going to work here… Um, but I mean circumnavigating the pit bulls that the dealer, that the drug dealer. The drug dealer and murder suspect lays out in the building where he's holed up to, figure out how to get past the pit bulls, that sort of thing.
I mean lots of stories like that, but I mean, those are, they, I guess they're sexy, but they're not the day-to-day?

ML: Well, but, well, but okay.
So let me tell you, tell me, take me back to the time when like it was mano a mano. New York Post, Daily News, whereas like, and then I don't even consider the time. Obviously, Newsday was, we were laughable. We'd get there three hours late.
Everyone was like, ‘What are you doing here?’
But, um, and I would knock on all the same doors that everyone did like three hours ago and laugh and get laughed at anyway. But, but The New York Times, The New York Daily News, The New York post, like, like that battle, that kind of getting it, getting the gets and, and one up.

KB Yeah. Yeah. The old tabloid war. Um, well, cause that was part of it.

ML: It wasn't just, you could just report the story.
You're obvious. You're constantly mindful of the, of getting scooped by the competition.

KB: Sure. It's true. Um, um, there are lots of times, lots of times I remember — where do you start?
… Well, now they've moved it out of the, uh, out of one police Plaza and into trailers outside.

ML: Yeah. That's, I don't understand. Yeah.

KB: Well, I do. It’s about controlling the flow of information. It's about, it's about kicking the press out. It's just like right now, they're also starting to encrypt, um, uh, radio transmissions in certain in the, in the highest crime precincts of the city. Um, because they don't want these, they, they, they don't want the scrutiny.
They don't want the press to know they want to be able to dictate, um, the terms they want… They want to control the information.
And that's what's happening here.

ML: I mean, we've had such – we've had access.
I mean, that's part of what people don't know also is when you're not working, you're working. Because not only are you eyeballing BNN, or I don't know if they still do, but it used to be the pager.

KB: No, BNN is still in business.
They still listen to the transmissions.
I still make a round of calls to people who listen up.
Police sourcing is a different game nowadays.
Again, because they are controlling – they are better and better controlling the information.

*CONTEXT: «BNN»… Reporters and editors would have access to a pager that had nonstop feeds from law enforcement and fire dispatchers in the tri-state area. I hear there are still pagers in circulation out there even in our AI Frankenstein times.

ML: We're also weaker and weaker, Kerry.

KB: Oh, absolutely… Well, I mean, there are fewer of us.
And we don't have to – I couldn't believe how easily we rolled over when they kicked everybody out of the shack.
I can't believe there's no media firestorm over them encrypting.
…
ML: So let me just tell you – let me tell you an example of like the mano a mano.
I mean, there's been a few of where I was in – I mean, I was in the last of it.
But so Marty Tankloff, do you remember that story?
Murdered his parents and then didn't murder.
He got exonerated.
But essentially like that whole story where it was like he'd been presumed to have killed his parents.

*CONTEXT: END OF AN ERROR By Kieran Crowely

«SOURCE»

When I got to The News, I saw, it was a different era.
There were shifts around-the-clock. There were, um, 24-hour teams like from television. There was a real pack, uh, and packs plural, um, all chasing the same information. And, but, and, and it was, it was pretty chaotic and cutthroat. Um, what I tried to do was come up with a method, um, a method of handling, um, different situations.
For instance, uh, I noticed the pack hangs together. Um, whereas I didn't stay with them.
I would do a, I would, uh, I would, uh do a perimeter walk.
The bravest thing I ever did wasn't facing down gang bangers or, or, or bang or, or going up against the police. It was leaving the pack and going somewhere else while they stayed with, they were getting the same stuff. I went in another direction. I went, I did, I would do a perimeter walk. I do all sides and I keep my eye on the pack, but I wouldn't, I didn't I didn't chase the pack… Well, the other things I would do is, um, I'd, uh, work from the inside out. I mean, I just noticed that everyone was there. They were, people were focusing their energies, I think too soon. And in the wrong, in the wrong, in the wrong place, I would get as close to the center of the action and then work my way out from there. I pick off, if I saw something remarkable. I deviate from that, but my 12th plot was get into the center and then work my way out… I mean, yeah, I've always improvised. I mean, you look for the cat. You look for, you look for ways in, you look for advantages. You take chances. Um, and yeah, that's, that's an ad. They do that on an ad hoc basis.
You just figure out what's going to work here.

ML: …So that story though, he had gotten – he beat the charges.
And I – again, I was working at the – I was working at the – I was working at the Shack all day. So I put in a full shift.
And I get a call saying, well, the people that had been following him there was a team, if you will. When I say my team, it's not like a big team. It's like a reporter and a photographer. But maybe a couple of photographers then because it was a big story. But we were – they were trailing them and I was supposed to sort of take over because it hadn't stopped.
And he was going to go out to – the theory was he was going to go to dinner. Yeah. To celebrate, like a celebration dinner.
Okay. So we go – I end up – again, I worked a full day and they're like, can you do it? Obviously, I always said yes.
That was what I was – I kind of never said ‘No!’

KB: Right.

ML: Masochistically. But – so they tell me to come out there.
So I go out there and I think we had two photographers with me.
And the news had two photographers. At that point, I was at the Post, by the way. Right. So I – I always wanted – I was like, I'm going to go out there. I wanted to get in one of us. And I was – the only reason – I mean, you and I could probably talk about this.
But the only reason I really wanted to work for The Post is I just – I got along with most of the people there.
Like I was just friends with a lot of them already.
And I just – it wasn't that I didn't like The Daily News.
I ended up working for The Daily News, too, right?
Right. But the Post was like where I really cut my teeth and I got my wings per se. So anyway, I was fairly new.
I'm getting my – I was at the Shack.
I mean, not that new. So if I was already there.
I was at the shack because I'd run around for a while.
But I go to Long Island and I'm there and we're at this – we're right – it's at an Italian restaurant, a pretty nice one.
And I remember we're sort of standing outside there and we're both like – we're all – we're sort of like watching each other.
It was like like packs of wolves, like who's going to bite first. And I remember going in and I deciding, well, let's just get a table. And so we get a table.
And then we're sitting there with my photographers.
And I remember being there and we're sort of figuring out it's expensive. Again, like the most I'd ever eat on a stakeout or something was $10. This is like $30 for bread. But we're there. And then I noticed Daily News has to get a table. And so they try to get a table.

I mean circumnavigating the pit bulls that the drug dealer and murder suspect lays out in the building where he's holed up to, figure out how to get past the pit bulls, that sort of thing.
I mean lots of stories like that, but, I mean, those are, they, I guess they're sexy, but they're not the day-to-day?

ML (CONT.): And so then we're each like sitting at each other playing this like who's going to go – and so in the back room, there's this banquet hall, kind of like not huge. It's like a private dining room. That's where they are. And so we're sort of looking at each other. And then all of a sudden, The Daily News steps up. The photographer marches over and starts banging – and at that time, there were these massive cameras the battery packs, the big lenses, just charges in because they were having a gay old time in there.
Snaps a bunch of photos. So guess what? We had to do the same.
And it was such a – and it was – we had to get the same shot and had to go – so we had to ruin their dinner or whatever you want to call it, interrupt it. And then we were kicked out.
I think we might have had soup. I don't think we ever got to an entree. But I remember it being like this – like it had never been that much of like a – like we ended up getting this getting the same story pretty much. And – but it was this odd thing of like that was the first time I think I'd really
seen how aggressive it had to be. We could not let you guys get this – get that one up on us?

---

***

MMM: My memory of this tabloid version of chicken was a smidge askew… everything happened just as I recounted to Kerry, except while we were seated it was a New York Post fotag NOT The Daily News competition that moved first. In fact, (and this is based on other eyewitnesses) the fotag claimed to have been whispering to folks in the banquet room. He believed that there was going to be signal posited to him so that we could be welcomed in for a greeting. So while we were still stumped on the hoity-toity fare, the one photographer who had been waiting for this supposed sign from one of the Tankloff’s party in the private dining room was sheathed by curtains — and was certain it was given.

In that instant, the person yelped several times, ‘He’s giving the sign! He’s giving the sign!' … and then they rushed into the private room with their AK-47-lensed Nikon and blasted away to get the pics. Once that happened. The News’s counterparts followed and took their pics. Then we were all kicked out after that. We fed our desks and had a laugh about how that all went down. So for the record, The News reporters and fotags were the polite ones on this night and it was us, The Posties who prompted this abrupt sideshow. ***

---

▀ ‘I’m bedside with the survivor and your team your staff is about three miles from here and I don't know what they're doing!’

KB: If you don't – if you tell lies, you don't – you lose your credibility.

ML: But a lot of people told lies, Kerry.

KB: Yeah, I know. I know. But you knew who was lying to you.
I never told lies – I didn't tell lies to anybody.
You lose your credibility and frankly, you lose the leverage because who's going to work with – who's going to believe the liar?

ML: Well, and I think that people need to understand too is like you're getting there sometimes. For instance, like you remember obviously like – I'm just thinking of – things are coming to my mind. But like the Ponzi schemer, Park Avenue.
What was his name? Yeah.

ML: I don't know. Yeah, the famous Ponzi schemer. He died in prison in North Carolina.

KB: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Madoff.

ML: Madoff. So when Madoff happened –

KB: Madoff, sure.

ML: Do you remember that?

KB: Oh, yeah.

ML: So when that broke, when that broke, it actually broke the night before, 5:30. Everybody was going to the Madoff building to like empty their bank accounts and they were turning them away.
Right. Okay. So the next day in the morning – I was there at 5 in the morning. Yeah. So I was like, I'm going to go to the Madoff building. What I'm trying to get at is people – I don't think people realize to get a story, you're working when you're not even writing. You don't just get a story and just start writing.
Like the amount of work it takes to get to a place to start even getting an edge on your competition.

KB: Oh, yeah. I mean, well, I mean, you run. You run and you run and you run. I mean, it's always been like that. I think that's always been the nature of the game.

ML: Like when you went out of town, Kerry, and you're going to – I don't know. You said you –

KB: When I went out of town, I had hotel suites that I never even – that I never even – I mean, I would fly out and I wouldn't go to a hotel. I would go to the scene… I never went to the hotel.
I mean, I know people did. I wondered why they did that. But I went straight to the scene. I might show up at the hotel.
Yeah. And then I'm 22 hours later… I remember stories where I get a call from CNN. Oh. asking for help because they read something in The Daily News and I'd be like ‘Well your reporter is
— I’m bedside with the survivor and your team your staff is about three miles from here and I don't know what they're doing!’

ML: I think that was always the beauty of what I respected about the New York City gene almost if you want to call it that we would take our style of reporting our nonstop go at it hard as hell find the best bits don't take just what they give us and always find a way to get this the best material that no one else possibly was even looking for I didn't know he's there until it was handed to them and we would always go after it and I remember just the amount of hours that I would spend I think that's why I learned that's I didn't understand it at first I think it started with like stakeouts and not in figuring out like okay
like like if you're doing a long stakeout right around the clock stakeout like I mean things kick in; you're a human being you have to go to the bathroom like—

KB: Yeah stakeouts, when I still do stakeouts — I don't do a lot of them — but when it's when it's stakeouts I don't look at the door I look at the traffic I look at who's coming and going; I look at the traffic… because that's that indicates what's going to happen next.

ML: I always think of it like you have to be an FBI agent. You can't be just a reporter.

KB: The police doing and what uh when I go to a story I want need I need I need a I need an eyewitness I need a principal
and as I said someone a victim a perpetrator or a family member um and I need a police source — those are the three things I'm looking for when I go to a story when I go to a breaking news story

ML: You know what you missed? What you left out though? You dress with a certain code.

KB: Every day for the last 21 years I wear a shirt and a tie
and I carry a white notebook. I wear cop shoes because I'm first of all I'm going into people's homes. I'm going to their businesses. I'm going to their hospital rooms. I'm going to their places of worship. And they don't know me from Jack, and they owe me nothing. So I come correct because that's the easiest way. A shirt and a tie is the quickest way to show respect. And it also projects authority. I'm someone you should talk to. Now, I also happen to look like a cop. I look like a detective. That's just how I look. But I don't impersonate anyone. I tell them who I am. ‘I'm Kerry Burke from The Daily News.’ I might open with that.
I might close with that. But I tell people who they're dealing with.

ML: Tell me about what – see, I think that kind of honor code is something special. It's not taught. But the best reporters I've probably seen do this, kind of literally. They look like cops.

KB: Right. Well, yeah. I mean when I was a rock critic,
I wore an alt-rock band T-shirt and a leather jacket and high tops because I was a rock critic. In a breaking news report, I look like a detective. I don't tell people I'm a detective.
I tell people I'm Kerry Burke from The Daily News.

ML: Yes, you do. That's the first thing you say.
You wear your press pass in front. It's always there.
Yes, I do.

KB: But I don't always have it out.

ML: No, I know. You have it in your shirt.

KB: With other people, the number of people who are convinced I'm a detective still astonishes me, even as they hold my business card.

ML: Tell me some of the things that would happen. I'm just asking.
Has there been some scoundrel-type stuff? Have you been lied to?
Have you had scenarios? No, no. Well, tell me some of the things that have happened where you've been bamboozled or you've had to...

KB: I mean, I've had all kinds of people lie to me.

ML: And when you say people, you mean other reporters, right?

KB: I mean other reporters. I mean police sources. I mean politicians. I mean family members of perpetrators, family members of victims. But the thing is, you report things out.
People lie to you, but you find out other things by reporting it out. So you're much less likely to fall for a lie because there's so much other information that contradicts it. I mean, yeah, I have been lied to straight out, and that's a bad break. Sometimes that's going to happen because there's only so much information that was available. It happens.

When I went out of town, I had hotel suites that I would fly out and I wouldn't go to a hotel.
I would go to the scene…
I never went to the hotel.
I mean, I know people did.
I wondered why they did that.
But I went straight to the scene.
I might show up at the hotel.
Yeah.
And then I'm 22 hours later.

▀ Carless In NYC

ML: But you handle it gracefully.
But I was going to say also, one of the things that I also...
I mean, I marveled about, Kerry. You didn't have a car.
I'm sorry, what? You didn't have a car.
I mean, I didn't have a car either sometimes.

KB: I was a police staff reporter in New York City without a car.

It's about controlling the flow of information.
It's about, it's about kicking the press out.
It's just like right now, they're also starting to encrypt, um, uh, radio transmissions in certain in the, in the highest crime precincts of the city.
Um, because they don't want these, they, they, they don't want the scrutiny.
They don't want the press to know they want to be able to dictate, um, the terms they want… Well, I mean, there are fewer of us. And we don't have to – I couldn't believe how easily we rolled over when they kicked everybody out of the shack. I can't believe there's no media firestorm over them encrypting.

ML: Yeah.

KB: Early on, I realized that...
This is New York City. My competition was...
Because they were caught in traffic or looking for parking,
and I was already there because the subway works.

ML: Well, I mean, sometimes you get a ride from a photographer.
Oh, yeah, sure.

KB: I know when to call a car.
I know when to jump in with a photographer.
It's a decision you make as you roll.
Yeah. But, full disclosure, they weren't paying me enough to maintain. I didn't want to buy a car when I started.
I was broke. I mean, I told them, ’Look, if I can't turn around these stories, fire me. But I can't afford a car.’
And they said, okay, okay, okay. Well, they just looked the other way, but I kept turning the stories around. So now after a while, nobody wanted a car… my whole thing about not following the pack. But after a while, people realize who you are and what you're doing, and the pack chases you.

Oh, yeah. Sure. Sure. I remember stories where I get a call from CNN. Oh. asking for help because they read something in the daily news and I'd be like well your reporter is um I'm bedside with the survivor and your team your staff is about three miles from here and I don't know what they're doing

▀ Kerry’s Legendary Knapsack + Breakfast, Lunch, & Dinner Of Champions

ML: Well, tell me about... See, I think that's an interesting thing, because, like, you've been in brick cold, standing outside,
handling, doing what you're doing, and then the big vans come in with their microwave antennas, and they're sitting there figuring out what they're going to have for lunch. Is it going to be the ground the Italian spot around the corner? You know what I mean? You and I are, like, eating...
Because I think also, one of the things I also...
So, you've got your tie and your coat, but you also have your knapsack.

KB: Oh, yeah, yeah.
I have a knapsack, and I have stakeout food in it.

ML: What's it? What do you have?
Tell me, because this is...

KB: I have yogurt and muesli.

ML: I actually know.
I know the answer to this, but...

KB: Yogurt and muesli and wine.
I've done it every day for the last 20-plus years.

Every day every day for the last 21 years I wear a shirt and a tie, um I carry a white notebook. I wear cop shoes. Because I'm first of all
i'm going into people's I'm going to people's homes I'm going to their businesses I'm going to their hospital rooms.
I'm going to their places of worship.
And they don't know me from Jack, and they owe me nothing.
So I come correct because that's the easiest way.
A shirt and a tie is the quickest way to show respect.
And it also projects authority. I'm someone you should talk to. Now, I also happen to look like a cop. I look like a detective. That's just how I look. But I don't impersonate anyone. I tell them who I am. ‘I'm Kerry Burke from The Daily News.’ I might open with that. I might close with that.
But I tell people who they're dealing with… With other people, the number of people who are convinced I'm a detective still astonishes me, even as they hold my business card.

KB: Yogurt and muesli. Yeah because I haven't eaten lunch in 21 years, either. I mean, I eat on the subway and I eat when... I eat standing up if I eat at all. Sometimes I get home at night, and that's when I have a supper, at one in the morning.

KB (CONT.): Having a wife and kids changes everything. Yeah. But it doesn't change the game. It doesn't change the game. You still got to be able to do it. That's what you need to do to get... To turn stories around. And it's tough. It's hard. It's hard. This is not a business built for families. But that's just... That is part of the cost? People have to be very understanding that you're not going to be there.

---

▀ Street Soldier

ML: Are you even getting... Are you even going to, like, scenes with photographers at this point? Or are you by yourself most of the time?

KB: I'm by myself most of the time.

KB: Yeah stakeouts, when I do I when I still do stakeouts I don't do a lot of things but when it's when it's stakeouts I don't look at the door I look at the traffic I look at who's coming and going and I don't look at the traffic I look at the traffic I look at the traffic I don't look at the traffic I look at the traffic I look at the traffic I look at the traffic um because that's that indicates what's going to happen next you have… the police doing and what uh when I go to a story I want need I need I need a I need an eyewitness I need uh a principal and as I said someone a victim a perpetrator or a family member um and I need a police source those are the three things I'm looking for when I go to a story when I go to a breaking news story.

ML: Do they expect you, like, to take your own photos?
I'm just curious.

ML: I don't know what it's like these days.

KB: Yeah. Yeah. There are lots of scenes. I take photos.
I am a photographer. I am the videographer. Because they don't... The staff doesn't exist anymore.
We have one... Most nights we have one photographer for all five boroughs. Just like I'm the one reporter. Street reporter for all five boroughs. The industry is collapsing around us.

ML: So how... So... Because this is why I think it's important...
Also, we sort of talked about this. First off, like...
Well, before we get into that, because I don't want to forget that.
Because I think it's... I want to talk about the lost art and what people need to know is going to disappear at some point when print goes away…

[30]