It was one of those rare moments when a reporter puts down their pen, debating what hat to wear in the next few moments. Do you stay professional, keeping your head down? Or do you put the notebook away all together and become a friend?
I cannot recall the exact details of the matter, but I found myself in one of those moments with Tommy Irvine earlier in my career. Sitting in his office, the subject at hand involved a heartbreaking murder case within our community. As chief investigator at the time, it was Tommy’s job to share public information with me. But as the interview continued, I could tell the subject bothered him.
In small communities like Yazoo, situations like these can become very personal. We are not a bustling metropolis. We are a tight-knit community, and when tragedy strikes, it can affect the entire community because, let’s face it, we all know each other.
This was one of those cases that morning with Tommy as we conducted our interview in his office. I could see the emotion in Tommy’s face. He knew and respected the victim. And, to be honest, it was hard to keep a poker face.
Turning my recorder off and placing my pen down, Tommy and I had a moment “off the record.” We shared some personal feelings about tragedies and when they occur in our own town, among ourselves. After several minutes, we collected ourselves. And we got back to work.
I never forgot that image of Tommy. He was professional and dedicated to his craft. But he had a heart. He loved his community, her people. He used his profession to make a difference. It was during that interview that I saw a connection with Tommy and the community he served. He did his job, but he also did it with compassion and kindness.
I admit there were a few times Tommy and I butted heads. He shared his opinion while I shared mine. And although we disagreed, we were still friends at the end of our conversation. I respected him for that too. He spoke his mind, but he left it there. Our disagreement never resurfaced, and it did not affect a handshake or hug the next time we met.
I also remember a time when Tommy was serving as the county tax collector. I was in his office on a serious matter, but he cracked a joke that I couldn’t help but erupt with laughter over. Pretty soon, he and I were shaking the windows with our combined laughter. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I had to ask him to remind me what we were even talking about.
That was another thing about Tommy. He loved to laugh, and it warms my heart to see someone laugh with their whole face, their whole body. And Tommy did that.
If Tommy treated me that way as a reporter, I could only imagine how he treated his close friends and loved ones. From my angle, he was a man who loved to laugh, told it to you straight, cared about his community and served as a committed professional. But he was also loving Christian who valued his family and friends. That is quite a legacy.
And although the joke we shared in his office those years ago will remain private, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as I wrote this column. My heart warmed when I realized that I knew a special person at one time. And although I considered it a working relationship, I always knew it was friendship as well.
And that’s just how Tommy made you feel.
