Too Soon, Again

I haven’t had time to really reflect on the killing of Deputy Andrew Nunez. It feels like almost yesterday that we just lost Hector Cuevas, Jr., and that I was filming his memorial. Here I am again, and it’s terrible. It’s sad. There is a range of emotions that I have for his partners, his family, his friends. Our community. The profession. Everybody.

While there is certainly the human element and all the range of emotions I am feeling about his murder, the purpose of this post—as it’s been all along with my book and all posts—has been to approach it from a production perspective. And doing so early on, during the process, will hopefully allow the reader to understand the raw emotions and decision making that goes on in the heat of it all.

After the initial feelings of Andrew’s death allowed me a few moments to pause, I started to think about what my role would be in his memorial. I never take it for granted that I will have a place in it, even though I have been asked to do so on more than one occasion. I value the partnerships and relationships that I have with the sheriff’s department.

A strange thing happened, though, and it was like a creative bolt that just hit me. In my thought process, I kept trying to figure out how could I possible make something personal or different from the last memorial that was only a few months ago. I struggled with it, because I didn’t want to just create the same film. Different deputy. Andrew deserves more, his family deserves more.

I was working out in the backyard and I just had this vision of what I could do to incorporate something different for Andrew’s memorial.

Memorials are tough and they tend to be consistent in the imagery that you see: Bagpipes, 21-gun salutes, flag folding, carrying the casket, the fly overs, the release of doves. And they are heart wrenching to film, much less watch.

But I kept thinking about Andrew’s partners, and their voices, and what they were thinking. My goal is going to be to have the contrasting imagery of Andrew’s memorial, those tragic imageries, accompanied by the voices of his partners who knew him best. Those two ideas just formed in my head, and I knew I had to have it. The film just came to life in my thoughts. I could see it all.

I plan to turn this video around in less than 24 hours, so I had to work fast. I reached out to my contact, Ken Anthony, at the Sheriff’s Department, and he was on board with the idea. Shot me the green light.

And then I asked Lolita Harper, a talented producer and former journalist with exceptional interview skills to come on board, to conduct the interviews for the VoiceOver. We interviewed Andrew’s partners a few days ago, and yesterday, I melded them all together. It’s beautiful as a stand alone. Even without imagery.

And that’s where I’m at. Now, I just wait. I try to absorb as much as I can about the event, the location, the people who loved Andrew. Wait until the 18th. The more I can absorb, the better prepared I feel to follow the story.

It’s important to note that I say, “follow the story.” Not find it. Not create it. Follow, for me at least, means allowing myself freely be apart of the action taking place before me and then weaving it into what feels like an emotionally-charged story.

It’s just what works for me, and while I wish I never had to make this particular type of film, it’s an absolute honor that I hold close to my heart.