On Tuesday Oct. 3, 2007 I was sitting in the office just about ready to leave for an important meeting my wife and I were to have with my sons 5th grade class and the president of the Maine Tourettes Foundation, who I would meet for the first time.


She had a video and was talking to his class about Tourettes, which my middle son Kevin has.  I heard a call over the police scanner mounted on the wall in the photo department that an undercover detective (I recognized Det. Sgt. Adam Higgins excitable voice) had spotted a fugitive they were looking for.  Higgins called for backup in the area of Howe and Ash Streets.


I realized that it was only a few blocks away from the office and I would be passing near the area on my way to the appointment at school, so I headed out, thinking it would end like the hundreds of other dead end calls I had gone on in the past, but every so often it pays off.  Once in a great while you get lucky.  I had no idea how dramatic this call would be.


When I arrived, Adam deduced the fugitive had fled into a building he had been known to visit.  He and several other just arriving officers headed into the building.  Another officer went to the front of the building on the outside to cover any escape out the windows or front door.  I realized nobody was on the back side, so I went to the corner of the building to get a view of two sides. 

Within seconds the fugitive, Norman, “Bo” Thompson emerged from the third floor balcony and jumped off, landing on the roof of a nearby garage, all the while my finger on the shutter release button taking a series of photos as he flew through the air. 

At that point he rolled out of sight.  I ran to the other side of the garage where I discovered him running away with no police in sight.  I dropped my camera and started after Bo at the same time Adam yelled for me to tackle him, increasing my adrenaline and resolve to detain him until the police came down from the third floor. 

After several officers took over, I grabbed my camera and began shooting again, getting images of him being restrained and cuffed.  Within 5 minutes of arriving on scene, I stood there shaking and scrolling through the images, not believing what I had captured, and realizing the gravity of what I had done. 

While I began thinking of all the implications, I remembered my appointment and jumped in my car and headed to the school.  As I entered the school, I was greeted by my wife, some teachers and the speaker I had never met. 

My wife pointed out the grass stains and pieces of dirt and grass on my shirt and pants. I began talking a hundred miles a minute retelling what had just happened, all the while watching their jaws dropping to the ground. 

Before heading to the meeting I called my boss to tell  him what had happened and that we didn’t have to worry about the story we had planned to run on the front page the next day that had fallen through, I might have something that would might work and I wouldn’t need to go looking for a “feature photo.”  He was speechless, understandably.  I told him I’d be in to show him the images in about an hour. 

When I arrived back at work he and some other editors and reporters huddled around my computer and were in awe as the series of images began to open on my computer screen as I retold the story. 

One veteran editor, Keith Hagel piped up and said “this is big, its going National.” I guffawed at that and tried to downplay it, saying it was nothing, like I believed then, and still do now to a certain extent.  He would have no part of it and started the wheels in motion to get approval to get a reporter working on a story and permission to move it on the AP wire as soon as possible. 

To my luck, it was Mark Laflamme who latched onto the story and rode its coat tales (according to him) for the next two weeks.  His style of writing and macabre sense of humor was a perfect fit for this adventure that was just getting started. 

The story ran huge on the front page of our newspaper and also picked up by many others around the country and news outlets all around the world.  The next morning my phone started to ring at 7:00 am.. Keith was correct in his prediction. 

All three local television stations wanted interviews with me, I went live on the radio with several local and New England stations.  Since then I have lost count of how many I have done, the last just yesterday being a morning talk show from Iowa. 

The story began to take on another life of its own when Mr.. Thompson was released on bail.  A few days later he called me and we had a lengthy conversation where he wanted to know why I tackled him and that he wasn’t the bad guy the police were making him out to be.

He said he was non violent, but admitted he had a drug problem and was going to seek help and “live out in the woods so I won’t get into no trouble.”  He sounded sincere and I assured him I had nothing against him and was simply acting upon orders given to me by police.  He was angry that I was getting rich over his misfortune. 

I informed him that I had not received a penny from any of the publicity, except the $100.00 managing editor Rex Rhoades gave me from the company to help pay for the pants that were ripped in the incident and take my family out to dinner with what was left over. 

Bo didn’t seem to understand that we don’t get royalties from publications that ran my photo and Mark’s story.  We moved on to deeper discussions about the legal system and his unlucky past.  When we hung up I said a prayer to help him through the ordeal and had hoped that what I did might help turn this guys life around. 

He told me he had a young daughter and mother he wanted to provide for.  I had hopes that he would succeed. 

A few days later I was out of town on another assignment when a colleague called me to tell me Bo was involved in a standoff with the Maine State Police at his home in Mexico. 

I had mixed emotions. I was sad that he had so quickly turned back to crime, assuming the police had caught him stealing again.  But I was relieved that he was no longer “out there” perhaps a threat to me and my family, seeking revenge for what I did. 

I had initially felt he wouldn’t be a threat, but after a few days of thinking of the possibilities and many others telling me to “watch my back” I felt a little trepidation.  

Initial reports came in that he had been killed in the standoff and I felt very sad that he did not get the help that might have turned his life around.  When he was finally apprehended, alive and well, I was relieved, but was again hit with the realization that the broken legal system that did not help him, in fact, set him up for failure again, would never supply him with the services he needs to get back on track with his life.  He has a severe drug addiction. 

Both he and his family have asked for help, but none is available.  It’s a topic I welcome more discussion on. 

A week after the initial incident, an editor from CNN asked me to come to New York to appear live on their morning news broadcast.  I agreed, and the anxiety began to build. 

I am horrified at speaking in front of groups and was already feeling nauseous about the thought of going live, on air, with a worldwide audience.  Following is what I wrote on my laptop in the airport in New York as I awaited my flight to take me back to reality:

My 15 minutes of fame is finally over and I am still shaking from the adrenaline rush, sucking down my third cup of coffee of the day,  sitting in the terminal at LaGuardia Airport in New York after an early morning interview on the CNN American Morning show.  I am scheduled to leave in about an hour, a little over 12 hours after arriving. 

My flight from Portland was three hours late last night and I finally arrived in my hotel room about 1:30 AM.  All wound up from the trip, I set out to walk the streets to cool off (at 85 degrees that night it was much cooler in my room, but it was good to walk and blow off some steam.  I finally slipped under the sheets about 3:00. 

It seemed as if I just closed my eyes when the alarm went off at 5:30.  A car was to pick me up at the hotel at 7:00 for my trip to CNN.  The shuttle service was late, but a call got them here within 5 minutes.  During my trip I had three rides via shuttle service and each one was an ethnic experience.  The first was a Russian with a passion for Errol Flynn movies that he talked about the entire 20 minute drive. 

The other two were Indian and Pakistani; both very quiet and calm, but drove like Jeff Gordon.  On the way back to the airport my driver nearly missed the exit for the airport and zipped across three lanes of traffic to barely make the exit…..all at about 80 mph.  He ran over a median strip or some type of obstacle that I could not see as I was thrown to the side from the G force of the exit. 

I heard a big bang and the thump thump thump of the tire that had just blown apart on one of the busy thoroughfares leading out of the city.  We limped off the highway and onto a sidestreet. The driver pulled over adjacent to a row of small apartments. He jumped out of the car without speaking a word and bolted through the door of one. 

A few moments later he emerged, ran across the street and proceeded to unlock the door of a white SUV.  I watched him move a car booster seat and some other items in the back seat.  He ran back across the street with a panicked look and unlocked the trunk of the Lincoln Town Car and threw my luggage into his friend’s personal vehicle and summoned me to hop in. 

In less than 5 minutes from getting the flat tire we were again weaving in and out of traffic heading for the airport.  We arrived with plenty of time to spare and I gave him a big tip for the show and extra effort.

Aside from those minor glitches, the trip was relatively benign, unless you count my heart almost leaping out of my chest and being on the verge of throwing up from nerves as I sat in the green room waiting to go LIVE across the nation. 

I have met with presidents, movie stars, famous athletes and the like, but I have always been on the other side of the camera and cool as a cucumber.  What a difference being in the spotlight.  I have new found respect for anybody that broadcasts live on television. 

It is SO intimidating with all the lights and cameras pointed at you.  I had rehearsed what I was going to say for the past two days, but when the lights came up and the morning anchor, John Roberts, started asking questions, I felt like a deer in the headlights. 

My wife says that my boys were thrilled when I came on and were frozen in their seats as I went through the three-minute interview.  To them, it did not matter if I stammered and stuttered and had trouble finding the words, they were so proud of their dad says my wife and mother in law. 

They went to her house to watch it as we do not have cable. No matter how well I did, they were proud of their dad, a hero in their eyes. 

Its another week and a half since I wrote this and things are starting to die down, although I can not go anywhere without somebody wanting to congratulate me or hear me tell the story.  People want to know if it is “getting old.”  Are you kidding.  I’m eating it up! 

My friends threw me a big party last weekend and I received a cape with a Super Russ logo on it, Superman T-shirts, badges, buttons and everyone at the party had a Russ mask.  Talk about funny, the photo, of course, was  not a flattering one.  Then Mark LaFlamme showed up with his wife Corey who designed several t-shirts in my honor. 

They are so clever!  Perhaps you will see my sons wearing them around, they made one for each of them, and have taken orders from several people back at the office. 

I have many more funny stories about what has befallen me since this happened, but I’d like to end this on a serious note, as this is all because of the tragic events that have fallen onto a young man overcome by the trappings of drug addiction. 

I see so many young people turn to drugs and crime because of a learning disability, family troubles or financial difficulties.  I wish society could do more to help. 

Perhaps only a few might be saved, but like me going to a thousand scenes and nothing ever coming of them but frustrations, if you keep at it, you may have a few success stories that make up for all the failures. 

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