Four-dollar gasoline may be thwarting some adventurers, but not the travelers who rode my bumper all the way to the Great Smoky Mountains and back. The hills were alive with the sound of mufflers.

That was among many observations I made this month during a 1,600-mile journey through Tennessee and North Carolina. From Edwardsville to Gatlinburg and back, I saw no sign of fewer drivers on the highway.

In fact I marveled at how much fun people were having even as the price of their trip increased with each emission of their exhaust.

In the spirit of good journalism, I logged the price of gasoline as I went.

– I filled up on July 5 at the Westland Travel Center in St. Louis at $3.95 cents a gallon.

– On July 6 I stopped at the Corner Grocery in Silver Point, Tenn., where I spent $4.07.

– At the Dudley Creek Market in Gatlinburg, Tenn., on July 9, I spent $4.04.

– On July 12, at Clark’s Pump and Shop in Richmond, Ky., the price was $4.11.

– Upon returning to the QuikTrip on Troy Road in Edwardsville on July 13, the cost was $4.18.

The price was never a surprise: Every time I turned on CNN that week, the barrel cost of oil was among the lead stories.

I hear a lot about motorists cutting back, but I saw no evidence of it this month.

Our U.S. senators, Dick Durbin and Barack Obama, could do the free press a favor by pushing a federal shield law for reporters.

Such a law would allow a reporter to protect sources without being subjected to potentially harsh criminal penalties for failing to do so. One need only Google the subject to find hundreds of cases where media representatives have been jailed for refusing to divulge where they got their information.

Reporters carry an awesome burden — the responsibility to report information without reservations about whether they might go to jail for doing their job. Most states have shield laws (Illinois does), but the lack of a federal law to clearly spell out guidelines means that reporters who write locally but report on national subjects have no clear protections. In addition, state laws vary so widely as to be nonsensical in minimum standards of protections.

The Illinois Press Association has been championing the federal shield law for some time. Following is a press release they sent me this week.

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The Illinois Press Association thanks Illinois Attorney General Lisa Madigan for her support of the Free Flow of Information Act (S. 2035), a federal shield law for reporters.

Madigan joined 40 attorneys general throughout the United States in signing a letter by the National Association of Attorneys General, which urges Senate leaders to join the U.S. House of Representatives in passing the bill.

The Free Flow of Information Act would create a federal reporter’s privilege law to coincide with the laws of 49 states and the District of Columbia. Illinois has such a law.

“The Reporter’s Privilege Act in Illinois is a critical First Amendment law,” explained David L. Bennett, executive director of the IPA. “It protects the independence of the press so reporters are not forced to act as agents of the government. Such protection is needed at the federal level for broader protection of the same rights.”

The IPA has been a leader in First Amendment education through the not-for-profit Illinois First Amendment Center. The IFAC provides free educational materials to schools nationwide.

“The First Amendment is as important as it is underappreciated,” Bennett said. “Our forefathers intended the press to be free. More than 230 years later, we’re still trying to perfect that.”

“I think anybody who’s been involved in this issue for any length of time can tell you that there are more censorship conflicts today than at any other time,” Mark Goodman, Knight chair in scholastic journalism at Kent State University, told the Chicago Tribune in May.

The Free Flow of Information Act passed the U.S. House of Representatives 398–21 in October 2007. It cleared the Senate Judiciary Committee with a vote of 15–4. It has yet to be brought to the Senate floor for a vote
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“We hope the support from the Attorneys General will demonstrate to the Senate that his bill is not just a media bill,” Bennett said. He noted that several Illinois legislators have signed on as co-sponsors of the legislation and said that the IPA appreciates their support as well.

In the Senate, Sen. Barack Obama signed on in April. On the House side, Rep. Rahm Emanuel, Rep. Luis V. Gutierrez and Rep. Janice D. Schakowsky were co-sponsors.

“By exposing confidences protected under state law to discovery in federal courts, the lack of a corresponding federal reporter’s privilege law frustrates the purposes of the state-recognized privileges and undercuts the benefit to the public that the states have sought to bestow through their shield laws,” the Attorneys General wrote in their letter to Senate leaders.

Led by Attorneys General Douglas Gansler from Maryland and Rob McKenna from Washington, the letter was signed by Attorneys General from the following states, and will be sent to Senate leaders on July 8 when Congress returns from summer recess: Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Guam, Hawaii, Idaho, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Utah, Vermont, Washington and West Virginia.

The Illinois Press Association is the largest state newspaper association in the country with more than 600 daily and weekly newspaper members.

Illinois Attorney General Lisa Madigan weighed in on the subject.

“The reporter’s privilege is based on the fundamental premises that informed citizens, the right to gather news, and the preservation of news information sources are critical to our democracy. Illinois law already recognizes this privilege. Along with my colleagues, I have weighed in to urge Congress to recognize this privilege on the federal level,” Madigan said.

Before they walled it off on Tuesday, I had the chance to drive up the Great River Road for a peek at flooding conditions. You had to meander around barricades, but you still could get through.

Let me tell you, the River Road without traffic is an eerie scene, a cluster of concrete and nature coming together in ways that most of us never get to see.

For one thing I was struck by the number of waterfowl all along the roadway. Normally they’re skittish around cars, but with virtually no engines to spook them, the birds perched along the guardrail and roadway as though they owned it.

As if to accent my point a large duck stood in the middle of the road at the intersection of Clifton Terrace. He wasn’t moving, so I drove around him.

Bicyclists had already caught on and I was following in their tracks. Many bikers, knowing there were no vehicles about, boldly rode the middle of the highway — not the shoulder and certainly not the nearby bike trail, which by that point had already taken on water. Except on special occasions I’ve never seen bikers with such free access.

The Mississippi River gently lapped along the side of the road. When I drove it (Saturday morning) the water had not yet crept onto the cement. And the water was so still that debris was not even moving — a result, I suppose, of absolutely no boaters.

Now that the Illinois Department of Transportation has shut down Illinois Route 100 from Alton to the far side of Jersey County, most drivers won’t get the chance to see the River Road in the same way I did. That’s a shame. It was a natural perspective that I won’t soon forget.

My colleague Sanford Schmidt this week reminded me of a couple of comments made by former Telegraph staff members during the flood of 1993.

One came from then-managing editor Walt Sharp, who likened the catastrophe to “Chinese water torture.” We lingered so long with floodwater that year that it felt like somebody was drip-dripping us to death.

And former Publisher Don Miller said he’d rather go through a tornado than another flood. At least they come and go in nothing flat, he reasoned.

At this writing, it appears that the Great Flood of ’08 is not as great as the Great Flood of ’93, and for that, this newsman is grateful. This year’s floodwater left far more damage and will be remembered by far more people in places like Cedar Rapids and Iowa City, Iowa, than it will be in Alton, Ill.

In 1993, the floodwaters hit their peak in August and stayed out of the banks for weeks. In Grafton, the period of flooding, before and after the crest, was an amazing 195 days.

Many of the circumstances in ’93 were the same as they were this year — lots of rain here, lots of rain to the north and harsh winters preceding both.

The big difference this year is the lesser flooding on the Illinois and Missouri rivers, both of which feed into and affect the levels on the Mississippi. In 1993, rains and snows were spread across a much wider area. A second big key was the number of levee breaks on the Missouri side, which gave overnight relief to the levels in places like Grafton and Alton.

I’m proud of our reporting staff and their handling of flood stories this year. They kept above water when they had to — just as the Telegraph staff did in 1993 (and 1995 and 1997).

We’re ready for whatever happens next.

One of my favorite “almost” headlines of all time was the one I spotted as an editor several years ago while working at a weekly paper. Thank God I caught it before we went to press:

“Senator seek funds for wild life support.”

The senator, of course, may have loved his “wild life” but he was (at least publicly) a supporter of “wildlife” — a distinction with a difference and a typo that would have given me untold ribbing had it seen the light of day.

In June 2008, wildlife has been making my own life pretty wild on the job. Multiple times in the past week animals have played major roles in interesting stories.

– There was the story of a kitten that climbed into the inner workings of a van and had to be rescued, not once but two days in a row — in the same parking lot in Alton. Twice, Alton animal control officers had to be called in to free the kitten and the second time captured it so it didn’t keep them on the run.

– The same day we heard the story of a goose shot with an arrow and later rescued by a wildlife sanctuary in St. Louis where it is being restored to health.

– A couple of days later we did a story on the plight of TreeHouse Wildlife Center in Brighton, which is desperately in need of a new home — and for the funds with which to pay for it. The coverage included a terrific picture of a fish being tossed into the mouth of a waiting pelican.

Most readers, fond as they are of animals, loved the stories. A few other readers were sent to howling. Some people, I guess, would rather read what “important” stories.

I cut readers a break. On the same day as the kitten story was developing we also heard that Alton officers were also called out: for a cat stuck under a car at Target; to rescue abandoned baby raccoons; and to find — unsuccessfully — a cow that was supposedly loose somewhere in city limits.

The latter stories you never saw, but I’m sure they would have made for good tales, had we had the energy, time and space to tell them.

It all made for an interesting week — and I’m not even going to get into the blacksnake that apparently crawled into a substation and triggered a brief power outage for several thousand people in Alton and Godfrey last Thursday night.

My first real job was as a busboy at Rusty’s Restaurant in Edwardsville. I was 16 and a fresh kid, and I was about to get my comeuppance.

A couple of days after I started, I was helping wait staff work a large party. Apparently I was a little too slow doing it. Owner Lew Badalamenti took exception and barked some orders at me. Sheepishly, I complied and hustled the rest of the night.

A couple of hours later, one of the diners at the party — who’d seen me get dressed down — came up and handed me a $10 bill. Back in 1972, a ten spot was a lot of money. It may as well have been $100 for how good it made me feel.

In a lot of ways I’m still that fresh kid, but I never forgot an important lesson: Even when you think he’s wrong, the boss is still the boss. Do what he tells you to do.

I lasted only two weeks as a busboy. Without a driver’s license I was at my dad’s mercy. He finally put the kibosh to the job after driving across town several times at 2 a.m. to haul me home.

Rusty’s played an important role in my life. I’ve been to the restaurant a hundred times through the years, for class reunions, bands, dinner and parties. When one of the reporters in the newsroom turned to me on Tuesday and said, “Did you know Rusty’s is closing?” my stomach sank. It was a story that I really knew I should write.

By the end of the day I had even talked to my old boss, Lew, who sold the business some 15 years ago and is living in relative solitude in Edwardsville.

We were first to break the news online, and within hours every media outlet picked up on it. A landmark that catered to marriages, anniversaries, celebrities, political power and college parties had closed its doors.

Every town has its “Rusty’s.” Collinsville, for instance, had Zeppetella’s. Alton had Midtown Restaurant and Lounge. Wood River had Nita’s Cafe.

And all of them, now, are gone. And the newer restaurants, while bright and shiny, just don’t have the same flavor.

It gives me no pleasure to write restaurant obits and certainly not one for a place that has meant so much to so many people. The place wasn’t perfect but customers felt a sense of ownership.

I speak for Rusty’s alumni everywhere when I say goodbye, old friend.

I never cease to be amazed at the dire financial predicament that Illinois is in and the creative ideas that people come up with to get out of it.

This week, of course, the state is on the brink of approving a capital projects budget that would be financed in part by expanding state gambling, privatizing the state lottery and spending extra gas tax revenue.

Thank goodness for gas and gambling, eh?

Really, though, the state’s problems are no different than mine. I’m in financial straits, and everybody I know is, too. It’s all part of this complex, “I’ve already spent my next paycheck” mentality that’s taken hold in recent years. We buy what we want on credit, then hope that the debt will get paid off. Unfortunately, the only person who makes money on that scenario is a guy by the name of Visa.

Perhaps we should use the example now being touted by the Illinois Department of Transportation, which this week sent out a release asking for advertisers on its Official Highway Map for 2009-2010, to offset operational costs. You can have the back cover, front cover and inside border. Heck, if you had enough money you could probably have your name over the map itself.

I admire the advertising approach. Let businesses pay off your debts, instead of adding to them. For instance, I live close to the Watershed Nature Center in Edwardsville. I would be more than willing to let the city pay me $100,000 a year to draw an arrow on the front of my house, pointing the way.

I’m also in the flight path of St. Louis Regional Airport, which is about eight miles to the northwest. A helpful sign on my roof would guide the pilots overhead — and help pay my Ameren bill.

And, if Dr. Pepper realized how much soda was consumed inside my home, the company would happily place a billboard out front.

There must be a million creative ways to pay off those debts. If the state can do it, anybody can.

Sometimes newsrooms are like a hive, abuzz with activity. Sometimes we’re nothing more than abuzz.

Tuesday, we were busy as bees, with a story that is simply a perfect illustration of what goes on behind the scenes at a newspaper.

It started with a call to the City Desk, from a local beekeeper on his way to Delhi School in Jersey County. A swarm of honeybees had somehow found their way into a classroom, and he had the duty of removing them. Did we want pictures? he asked.

Sure, I responded and immediately set forth to line up my cast of characters.

Photo Editor John Badman, whose sense about such things I’ve never questioned, immediately wanted to know if we had the OK to get inside the school. “I’m not driving 30 minutes if I don’t have to,” the gas-wary shutterbug proclaimed. He’d been stung before on such assignments.

A quick call to the school proved him out. Schools are more skittish about publicity these days, and the principal was hesitant to give us the OK unless we had the superintendent’s permission. The school secretary said she’d call me back.

I waited 10 or 15 minutes, and Badman was calling back, wanting to know what to do. I assured him I was working on it. He had no time to spare if he was going to drive to Jersey.

I waited a while longer and Badman was back on the phone, now telling me he was already at the school and was not making headway.

“Call the superintendent!” he barked.

Bee nice, John, I thought.

Even as I was talking to him, reporter Laura Griffith was doing what I had asked her to do. She was on the phone with school district headquarters asking to speak to the superintendent, Colleen Legge, who as it turns out was gone on Tuesday.

“Ask for Ken Schell!” I frantically said to her, thinking about next-in-line administrators.

Laura worked her magic and got the district office to call the school. As I called Badman with the news I could hear the principal in the background, talking to him at the same time, relaying virtually the same message. We got in, got our pictures and, as it turns out, a really good story.

It took me longer to transcribe this anecdote than it did for the actual story to transpire. I sincerely do appreciate the folks at Delhi School — and the district — for putting up with us.

In these days of confidentiality and concern, schools are more wary than ever about opening their doors to a photographer. They are public places, but no one, including media, can just waltz in unannounced. Still, such policy only makes our job more difficult and answers the question of why we don’t do more school stories and photos.

Sometimes the setup of a story is as interesting as the story itself. We managed to avoid getting stung this time. But there will always “bee” tomorrow.

The old children’s game “duck, duck, goose” has nothing on the real-life scenes that have played out before me three times in the past month.

The first time I was driving through the heart of the Southern Illinois University Edwardsville campus when I had to stop for a pair of geese and their goslings marching across Circle Drive. It was a great sight, first the mama, then four or five babies, then the dad, following in the wake.

In recent years, SIUE has had more than its share of adventures with geese and the droppings they leave behind, so the sighting there was not terribly unexpected. Still, it was cute.

Then came this past Saturday, in Wood River. I was just crossing the Phoebe Goldberg overpass heading west toward Alton. It was early and traffic was not a factor, but in the distance I could see that a pickup truck had stopped in the opposite lanes of Route 143, in front of the Bel-Air Motel.

As I got nearer I could see a passenger in the truck had gotten out to guard a group of ducks as they crossed from north to south, heading in the direction of the motel, perhaps to sleep off a long night. I counted a mama, at least three babies and one concerned citizen.

About 12 hours later, I encountered an amazingly similar scene as I pulled into the American Legion in Edwardsville, en route to a wedding reception. There on the Legion driveway was another mother duck, leading her little ones to the opposite shore.

All this waterfowl misadventure just quacked me up.

Rarely do I get to enjoy such sights, but here I did three times in a month and twice in a day. I guess it was nature’s way of telling me that all is not so bad in the world.

I’ve had a lot of stories fall on me through the years.

Some “fell” in the sense that they fell apart. A few others fell on my head, the result of not paying proper attention.

But last week, one of the really interesting stories I’ve ever dealt with fell in my lap — twice.

It started on Tuesday, the day after staff writer Linda Weller reported on a shooting incident Sunday in the 1500 block of Mack Street in Alton. Knowing of our interest in the story, Police Chief Chris Sullivan stopped by the office that day to hand me a copy of a DVD. Some time back, we told the chief of our new ability to broadcast video on our Web site. Anytime he had surveillance footage or crime scene footage, we told him, The Telegraph could help get the word and images to the public via a whole new medium.

What Sullivan gave me, however, was far more than I bargained, and it bordered on the unreal. It was a home video of a fistfight-turned-gunfight that was, in the days that followed, the talk of the town — and viewed around the world. The fight was organized to settle a feud, as was the filming, but the gunfight that broke out at the end of the footage, seemed to just happen. Fortunately it was not fatal, but the MAC-10 semiautomatic gun at the center of the event continues to draw attention.

For me, the story wasn’t over, even after we wrote about the video. Last Friday, a 17-year-old man at the center of the events, Bryon Blake, called the newsroom to tell us he wanted to get his side of the story on record prior to turning himself in. Police had been looking for him since that Sunday. I just happened to be the one to take the call.

The half hour that followed was a blur — a series of calls to me from Blake about everything from the shooting to his life growing up to the reason he dropped out of Alton High School. He would talk a while, ask me a lot of questions, hang up, think of something else and call me again. After his last call, he said he would be calling me again. Instead, within the hour he was turning himself in at Madison County Jail.

I wrote a detailed story about the conversation that ran Saturday. Here, I’m leaving out some of the facts just to move the tale along. The police and prosecutor’s office and a judge are now going to have to separate the fact from fiction. More charges are being contemplated so this story is far from over.

We’ll see which way the rest of this story “falls” and whether or not any of it will fall toward me.

Somehow it always seems to.