Saying goodbye to a hero

Our community is focused today is on the death of Craig Todeschini, a state trooper who was killed pursuing a speeding motorcyclist several days ago. The station has devoted much time and many resources to this, pre-empting normal programming to carry the funeral live.

But we at the station have a second reason to mourn: one of our own, Dave Stanton, died Sunday and his funeral was earlier this morning.

It's fairly obvious to label someone like Todeschini, who was both a policeman and a volunteer fireman, as heroic; yet in many ways, Dave exemplified a quiet heroism made all the more profound in that it did not depend on spectacular circumstances to be made apparent.

Dave started as a news photographer back in the days of film, lugging camera, sound gear, lights, and batteries from story to story. In good weather and bad, through the mundane and the dangerous. When the late 1970s brought the first electronic news equipment, he learned a whole new technology and saddled up with even heavier and bulkier gear. Nowadays as we carry a digital camcorder with self-contained battery in the palm of the hand, it's easy to forget that back then, you had to strap on upwards of 50 pounds of camera, recorder, lights and batteries. Little wonder that Dave, like most news photographers of that era, suffered serious back and joint problems.

When finally in the late 1980s the physical toll became just too great, Dave took the initiative to change his career, switching from the news department to engineering. He spent untold hours in personal study, taking correspondence courses in electronics and going through specialized training to repair the very equipment he used to take out in the field. And over the years he made it his business to follow the changing technology as it passed from the rudimentary Umatic cassettes through Betacam, to the digital DVC-Pro we use today. It was sheer determination that kept him ahead of the curve, and kept the station's news equipment functional even during the lean years before we had the ratings or resources we enjoy today.

Dave branched out to become one of the microwave truck operators, but his most remarkable live hit came one afternoon when he and reporter Jeff Schiedecker narrowly missed being killed when the plane in which they were returning to Syracuse was hijacked by a deranged man who attacked the pilot and tried to crash the plane. Dave grabbed his camera, taking a series of dramatic photos as the hijacker was subdued; and shortly after landing, had the presence of mind to give a clear and riveting account of the incident live, during our early newscast.

But to my mind, the most telling picture of Dave was during the final months of his wife Phyllis' battle with cancer, as he ran through years of accumulated vacation and leave time to love and take care of her. His devotion inspired his co-workers to donate weeks of their own time so that he could continue to serve Phyllis... and yet our sacrifice paled next to his dedication.

A man who took his responsibilities seriously and went about, doing the things that needed to be done. Our own hero... and today, we remember him.