A few seconds of this and then the view drifts upward to a chaos of tree branches against an overcast November sky. Even on the basis of just those two syllables, most would intuit that the owner of the voice is either a radio or television reporter.A long view from a different camera shows the same cop in the same gateway. Get a look at him and it's obvious he's the latter, standing self-consciously erect, hands on narrow hips, a plumb line between the top of his head and his heels, posture and hair perfect. and Chris Hansen, the host of "To Catch a Predator," a recurring series on NBC's television news program, arrived here at this morning, having gotten hardly any sleep the night before. Although aspects of his show are tightly choreographed, Hansen and the rest of his production team must always remain loose limbed, ready to adapt to changing circumstances and unpredictable hours.Anybody compiling a list of local luminaries back then might have placed the name of the man inside at or near the top.His high school class, of which he was president, had voted him most likely to succeed, and he had done so.The biggest gig on his résumé was a Toys "R" Us commercial, and like many struggling actors, Schrack tried to squeeze in so many auditions that he didn't have time to properly research the roles he was reading for.So though he had known that he was auditioning for pays a consulting fee, pose in online chat rooms as underage teens living in that small town.And these were only the people actually within the house.
After a few minutes of this, the cameraman starts playing with the composition.
Before the unexpected series of events that began yesterday afternoon, for example, Hansen had no intention of ever being here, outside this house, waiting for a SWAT team on an overcast Sunday afternoon.
Yesterday, at around p.m., a young actor named Dan Schrack leaned back against a folding table and held a tubular, bendable microphone close to his lips.
At the time of the party, not much more than a decade out of law school and still in his thirties, he was already district attorney of his home county. A couple drinks and then a few and then who knows how many until he was well and truly lit, until he was finally a staggering mess, until he was finally so far gone that the prospect of walking home, never mind driving, was an Everest summit attempt.
The party's host had hired a local kid named Eric Bishop to provide entertainment, and Bishop -- who would eventually change his name to Jamie Foxx and move west -- was playing old R&B covers, pounding them out on a borrowed piano. And finally: The host and another friend poured the shambling young district attorney into, yes, a wheelbarrow.