The re-surfacing of the Cameron Todd Willingham story over the last couple of weeks has stirred a variety of memories for me, spanning back over the last 22 years I’ve called Corsicana home.

The mind is a very funny thing. Sometimes, I can’t remember what I had for lunch. Then again, there are some things that your mind will never let go of.

Dec. 23, 1991 is one of those memories for me — one I’ll never forget.

To be clear, that day is not one I’ve thought about often in the years that have gone by. Through some 30 years of being involved in “reporting” through my radio days into my present post at the Daily Sun, I’ve seen a lot of things I won’t ever forget, but don’t “dwell” on from day to day.

But on that particular day, I had a “front row seat” to a tragedy — something that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Radio was my profession at the time, and while not “the news guy” I was first to hear of the tragedy on the newsroom “scanner” — and with no one else available at the time, the one to respond to West Eleventh Avenue to “report the news.” Much like the Daily Sun newsroom of today, we all did “a little bit of everything” in the course of a day.

I parked a block or so down the street and saw the fire and police units in front of me, with a “supply line” snaking its way up the street to the fire engine in the middle of the street. I positioned myself near the rear of the engine, close enough to observe, but out of the way of those working the scene.

I remember seeing Todd Willingham standing in front of the house, wearing only a pair of pants, watching as firefighters poured water on the burning house. I remember seeing him around his vehicle, still parked near the house. Accounts of him being restrained by firefighters are accurate, from what I observed, and I remember him shouting something about “my babies.” He was eventually removed from the scene, carried away from the house by firefighters to the front of the truck I was standing by.

I did a couple of “live” radio reports via a two-way radio system, although I didn’t know at that moment just how tragic the event unfolding would be.

The tragedy became apparent when I saw a firefighter emerge from the house carrying the lifeless body of the older of the three children, Amber, and immediately drop to ground and start performing CPR on the child. As the firefighter kneeled to the ground, Amber’s arm fell limp by her side, and I knew then the story had changed dramatically.

Two more children were believed to be in the house, from what I had been told and overheard — a report that we soon learned was fatally true.

A short time after Amber was brought from the house and taken to the hospital, the “news guy” from the radio station had arrived on the scene, and I left to coordinate coverage back at the studio.

Three children dead, two days before Christmas. It’s a story I never thought I’d have to report. It’s one I hope I never have to report again.

Events of the last couple of weeks have brought the Willingham fire back to mind, as I’m sure it has for lots of folks, given the recent developments — and the way that information flows, thanks to the Internet.

From “Google alerts” to “Yahoo searches” to “Ask” and “Answers” and all things “dot com,” it takes but a few keystrokes and phrases to deliver any and all content you’d ever want about Cameron Todd Willingham, including the new section on our online newspaper that contains reporting and opinion pieces dating back to that tragic day in 1991.

And, just as quickly have come the responses to the mountain of “information” floating around, be it factual, opinion, folklore, folly or conspiracy-based theories.

We’ve heard from folks across the country, and around the world, who have read some of the posts on our online newspaper about the Willingham case. The majority of them have been in support of the belief that Willingham was innocent, and wrongfully executed for the deaths of his three small children.

As should also be noted, the majority of the people we have heard from since the Willingham story surfaced again aren’t from Corsicana, or Navarro County.

I can’t help but think about the Channel 4, 5, 8 and 11 news vans from the Dallas/Fort Worth TV stations, when they descend on our town, ask a half-dozen questions, then proceed to “report” on the latest tragedy with “expert” insight and boundless knowledge. Their stories are broadcast far and wide.

Then, they go back into their cozy condos in North Dallas and ponder on the great stories they told, and go after the next big “breaking” story, oblivious to the impact their work may have had “out in the field.”

We, on the other hand, are still here living those stories, side by side with the people involved, with a life of insight into the events of the day, knowing things only someone who has those experiences would know.

That has to mean something.

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Bob Belcher is Managing Editor of the Daily Sun. His column appears on Sundays.

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