CAMERADO on CBS
Check your local television listings and set your DVRs. You
won’t want to miss this.
It was “lights, camera, action” as three camerados battled
butterflies in their stomachs, all for the sake of their passionate belief that there is much that we can do
to fix our crippled criminal justice system.
On 27 August 2014, CBS producer Liz Kineke and crew came to
the University of Notre Dame to film interviews of Father Dave Link, Gary
Sparkman, and me for an upcoming episode in the Religion & Culture series.
The episode, which is titled “Crime, Punishment, & Redemption,” is
scheduled to premier on Sunday, 5 October 2014, but you’ll have to check your
local listings for the date and time when your CBS affiliate station will air
the show.
Thanks to the helpful intercession of vice president for
university relations Lou Nanni, the regal third floor conference room of
beautiful Stayer Hall was made available us. From a magnificent
cathedral-shaped window, we could see the iconic Golden Dome gleaming in the
sunshine.
After introducing myself to Liz and her crew--assistant
Natalie Baxter and Chicago-based Dan Morris, cameraman, and Rich Pooler, sound
technician--I drove to Hammes Notre Dame Bookstore, where Gary would leave his
car and then come with me to the site of the filming. Gary, a former felon who had
grown up in the violent Wild 100s of Chicago’s South Side, and whose story of
discovery and redemption is told in Chapter 12 of Camerado, I Give You My Hand, is a miracle of sorts. Out of a sense
of gratitude for the many blessings that have led him to his present life as a
model citizen and loving father, Gary overcame his shyness and agreed to be
interviewed for the show.
Gary’s face lit up when he saw me pull into the parking
space beside him. We climbed from our cars and gave each other bear hugs. He
looked fantastic. I felt a rush of pride.
It had been exactly one year since I had seen Gary on
the night of Camerado's book release party.
That night, Gary was the first to arrive at the Eck Alumni Center, where the celebration was held, so I was able to spend time with him before the crush of
guests arrived. I had long anticipated the thrill of placing a copy of Camerado in his hands, but even I was unprepared for his deeply emotional
reaction. “Wow,” he said, overcome. “Wow.” He sank into a nearby couch and sat
there, too stunned to say anything else, as he turned the pages. He became
oblivious, as if he had gone into some deeply private place and the rest of the
world had disappeared.
So here we were, happy to be together again. As I drove to
Stayer Hall, we talked about how much we admire Liz, who had proven in phone
conversations just how well informed she is about prisons, and about poverty, and
about the connection between the two. As we rode the elevator to the third
floor, we talked about Gary’s daughter and her love of reading—my kind of kid,
for sure. And then as we walked down the long corridor toward the conference
room where the crew was customizing lighting conditions and setting up
equipment, we talked about how nervous we were.
Entering the room and turning to his left, Gary suddenly
stopped in his tracks. There, right in front of him, sat Father Dave.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Gary buckled in the middle.
Clutching his heart, he exclaimed, “Oh! Oh, my!”
He turned to look at me, and I saw that tears had filled his eyes.
“Maura,” he said. “Oh, my! Oh, my! Maura, you--you surprised me! You brought Father
Dave here to surprise me!”
I realized then that he had not known that Father Dave would also be here for the taping.
Father Dave, who was by now on his feet, extended his hand
as he closed the short distance between them. Gary took the outstretched hand
and then simply wrapped his arms around the priest and, as if they were
long-lost relatives, the two figures melded into one.
Great, I thought, furiously
blinking back tears that would obliterate my eye makeup. This is not the time to cry.
I felt terrible as I watched Gary struggle to keep his
composure. He was so emotional, so raw it made me feel guilty, as if I were engaged
in indoor rubber-necking. And yet, at the same time, I felt a keen awareness that
Liz and the others were witnessing a powerful scene that could never have been
scripted. It was the kind of thing I had seen over and over again the past four
years since I started writing my book. This is the kind of raw, genuine
exchange of emotion that happens all the time between Father Dave and his brothers.
His camerados.
I turned to look at Liz. She was gazing, mesmerized, at the
two friends. Backlit by the brilliant August sunshine, an aura of light
surrounded her form. Was I imagining it, or was she blinking away a few tears
of her own? She caught my glance. Her mouth curved in a gentle smile, and she
nodded. It was then that I knew this would be a great day.
Lights. Camera. Action. Bring it. Bring it all. We were
ready.
I have tears in my eyes as I write this. What a beautiful story...and so beautifully written! I can't wait to see what was filmed this day!
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