Day 2
I'm back in the dorm after day 2. Today wasn't nearly as high-profile and exciting as yesterday was. No celebrity sightings, and Hannity is in Atlanta. Instead, I prepared Sean's packet of drudgereport materials. Faxing 55 pages is something I've never done before, I guess! Not too long after faxing the packet, we got news that Osama bin Laden was seen roaming in Pakistan, so I faxed in a quick cover and report for that, just in case there were major developments on it.
Other than that, answering e-mails and snail mails was my job for the day. Its a mundane job, but depressing as well. Here's why:
To the tune of roughly 750 emails a day, people write to Sean Hannity, and instead of being seen and read by the media superstar they adore, they come to me. As you can imagine, this means that a rather strict set of guidelines are set for which e-mails get moved to Hannity's assistant, or even replied to by myself. In the interest of the people I work for, I won't go into any keywords I look for, because the job will just be made more difficult for myself or anyone doing it.
That said, I almost feel like crying at the letters I get. Long, heartfelt pleas for relatives with cancer... Elderly, terminally ill listeners who want to know a postal address for Sean before they die... Single mothers who can't pay their bills, and who boil water to give baths to their children.
One letter really hit me today. It was sent by an entire platoon of soldiers on behalf of their wounded buddy. In Iraq, this guy had his teeth knocked out by a mortar round, and both eyes struck by shrapnel. His face is understandably a wreck. When he came to, he asked if anyone else was hurt. Upon learning that he was alone in the suffering, he looked relieved and said, "Good."
The bottom of the letter had the scribbled signatures of the whole platoon. They all wanted nothing more than to see their new inspiration honored at the Freedom Concert this July.
For those of you who don't know, Oliver North started the Freedom Alliance, and the purpose of the concerts held every year is to raise money for the children of slain soldiers. I wasn't sure whether or not I'd be able to go to the concert, or have to stay back and be an intern. Then I heard today from the Events Coordinator that we'd all get to go out and help set up banners, and work the concert.
So, that was my day. I emptied the e-mail inbox, and replied best I could to the letters sent. It's just quite an experience to see what 1,400 people had to say today.
Other than that, answering e-mails and snail mails was my job for the day. Its a mundane job, but depressing as well. Here's why:
To the tune of roughly 750 emails a day, people write to Sean Hannity, and instead of being seen and read by the media superstar they adore, they come to me. As you can imagine, this means that a rather strict set of guidelines are set for which e-mails get moved to Hannity's assistant, or even replied to by myself. In the interest of the people I work for, I won't go into any keywords I look for, because the job will just be made more difficult for myself or anyone doing it.
That said, I almost feel like crying at the letters I get. Long, heartfelt pleas for relatives with cancer... Elderly, terminally ill listeners who want to know a postal address for Sean before they die... Single mothers who can't pay their bills, and who boil water to give baths to their children.
One letter really hit me today. It was sent by an entire platoon of soldiers on behalf of their wounded buddy. In Iraq, this guy had his teeth knocked out by a mortar round, and both eyes struck by shrapnel. His face is understandably a wreck. When he came to, he asked if anyone else was hurt. Upon learning that he was alone in the suffering, he looked relieved and said, "Good."
The bottom of the letter had the scribbled signatures of the whole platoon. They all wanted nothing more than to see their new inspiration honored at the Freedom Concert this July.
For those of you who don't know, Oliver North started the Freedom Alliance, and the purpose of the concerts held every year is to raise money for the children of slain soldiers. I wasn't sure whether or not I'd be able to go to the concert, or have to stay back and be an intern. Then I heard today from the Events Coordinator that we'd all get to go out and help set up banners, and work the concert.
So, that was my day. I emptied the e-mail inbox, and replied best I could to the letters sent. It's just quite an experience to see what 1,400 people had to say today.
posted by Brett at 1:06 PM
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