Andrea McCarren’s post-layoff trip across the country pointed her in a new direction. Photograph by Eli Meir Kaplan.
In my daughter Olivia’s third-grade class, a boy unfurled a poster for his current-events presentation. ANDREA MCCARREN LAID OFF, it screamed. He’d cut photos of me from the Washington Post and Internet along with articles about my sudden departure from WJLA-TV, where I was a reporter. At recess, Olivia tracked down the boy and slugged him. (A teacher witnessed the punch, and she was sternly reprimanded.)
My teenage son, Blake, offered reassurance about my January 2009 layoff: “Just because you’re not reporting for Channel 7 doesn’t mean you’re not a reporter anymore.” He was right. What message would I send my three kids if I let my first job loss define me? “You’ve always wanted to travel the country with us,” Blake said. “Let’s go.”
Within three months, we’d sold our house and rented an RV. We would hit the road as a family of reporters documenting how Americans were dealing with economic hardship. We had a file of leads and relied on social media for the rest. We packed a laptop, maps, video and camera gear, and an abundance of faith.
Through 21 states and 6,400 miles, we met people like John Holcomb of Manistee, Michigan. Holcomb was manager of an auto-parts plant that had collapsed—he welled up when he recalled having to lay off all of his employees. But he transformed the plant, adding the manufacture of small wind turbines, then hired back and retrained much of his staff.
Greensburg, Kansas, impressed us with its ability not just to survive but to thrive. The residents had lost everything when a tornado wiped out the town in 2007. Instead of leaving, they rebuilt Greensburg using green technologies. Now it’s a model of sustainability.
In Minneola, Kansas, we stood in a field with brothers Luke and Matthew Jaeger. Threatened with losing the family farm, they cooked up a plan that included making a batch of biodiesel in their kitchen. They ended up with a solution to the high cost of gas by collecting used oil and chicken fat from restaurants. Now their company is the second-largest biodiesel manufacturer in Kansas.
We drove across South Dakota to the tiny town of Lead, where the economy had forced the closure of its largest employer, a gold mine. The residents transformed the mine into the nation’s first underground science laboratory, attracting worldwide attention.
Pam Daley is a waitress we met in Nashville. At 48, she hadn’t given up on becoming a country singer/songwriter, and she kept a well-worn envelope labeled “music money.” When my family met her, Daley had saved enough to buy studio time and record some songs. This year, she released her first CD.
Our RV rolled past miles of swaying sunflowers. In southwestern Minnesota, we saw hundreds of wind turbines against a Maxfield Parrish sunset—a field of white pinwheels, each punctuated by a red light at its center. We slept in Walmart parking lots, chatting with employees on the overnight shift.
A manager at Washington’s Channel 9 had been following us on Facebook. When we returned, he asked if I was available for freelance work. That led to my current full-time job as a multimedia journalist. I now shoot and edit some of my own stories. People are often surprised when I show up alone, a veteran journalist schlepping a tripod and camera gear.
On the back roads of our country, my family found hope. If other Americans could face tough times, reinvent themselves, and emerge with resilience and gratitude, so could I.
This article first appeared in the January 2011 issue of The Washingtonian.
Andrea McCarren’s Road Trip
Getting laid off as a TV reporter shook up Andrea McCarren's identity. Meeting other Americans around the country gave her hope.
In my daughter Olivia’s third-grade class, a boy unfurled a poster for his current-events presentation. ANDREA MCCARREN LAID OFF, it screamed. He’d cut photos of me from the Washington Post and Internet along with articles about my sudden departure from WJLA-TV, where I was a reporter. At recess, Olivia tracked down the boy and slugged him. (A teacher witnessed the punch, and she was sternly reprimanded.)
My teenage son, Blake, offered reassurance about my January 2009 layoff: “Just because you’re not reporting for Channel 7 doesn’t mean you’re not a reporter anymore.” He was right. What message would I send my three kids if I let my first job loss define me? “You’ve always wanted to travel the country with us,” Blake said. “Let’s go.”
Within three months, we’d sold our house and rented an RV. We would hit the road as a family of reporters documenting how Americans were dealing with economic hardship. We had a file of leads and relied on social media for the rest. We packed a laptop, maps, video and camera gear, and an abundance of faith.
Through 21 states and 6,400 miles, we met people like John Holcomb of Manistee, Michigan. Holcomb was manager of an auto-parts plant that had collapsed—he welled up when he recalled having to lay off all of his employees. But he transformed the plant, adding the manufacture of small wind turbines, then hired back and retrained much of his staff.
Greensburg, Kansas, impressed us with its ability not just to survive but to thrive. The residents had lost everything when a tornado wiped out the town in 2007. Instead of leaving, they rebuilt Greensburg using green technologies. Now it’s a model of sustainability.
In Minneola, Kansas, we stood in a field with brothers Luke and Matthew Jaeger. Threatened with losing the family farm, they cooked up a plan that included making a batch of biodiesel in their kitchen. They ended up with a solution to the high cost of gas by collecting used oil and chicken fat from restaurants. Now their company is the second-largest biodiesel manufacturer in Kansas.
We drove across South Dakota to the tiny town of Lead, where the economy had forced the closure of its largest employer, a gold mine. The residents transformed the mine into the nation’s first underground science laboratory, attracting worldwide attention.
Pam Daley is a waitress we met in Nashville. At 48, she hadn’t given up on becoming a country singer/songwriter, and she kept a well-worn envelope labeled “music money.” When my family met her, Daley had saved enough to buy studio time and record some songs. This year, she released her first CD.
Our RV rolled past miles of swaying sunflowers. In southwestern Minnesota, we saw hundreds of wind turbines against a Maxfield Parrish sunset—a field of white pinwheels, each punctuated by a red light at its center. We slept in Walmart parking lots, chatting with employees on the overnight shift.
A manager at Washington’s Channel 9 had been following us on Facebook. When we returned, he asked if I was available for freelance work. That led to my current full-time job as a multimedia journalist. I now shoot and edit some of my own stories. People are often surprised when I show up alone, a veteran journalist schlepping a tripod and camera gear.
On the back roads of our country, my family found hope. If other Americans could face tough times, reinvent themselves, and emerge with resilience and gratitude, so could I.
This article first appeared in the January 2011 issue of The Washingtonian.
Subscribe to Washingtonian
Follow Washingtonian on Twitter
More>> Capital Comment Blog | News & Politics | Party Photos
Most Popular in News & Politics
See a Spotted Lanternfly? Here’s What to Do.
Meet DC’s 2025 Tech Titans
Trump Travels One Block From White House, Declares DC Crime-Free; Barron Trump Moves to Town; and GOP Begins Siege of Home Rule
The “MAGA Former Dancer” Named to a Top Job at the Kennedy Center Inherits a Troubled Program
Patel Dined at Rao’s After Kirk Shooting, Nonviolent Offenses Led to Most Arrests During Trump’s DC Crackdown, and You Should Try These Gougères
Washingtonian Magazine
September Issue: Style Setters
View IssueSubscribe
Follow Us on Social
Follow Us on Social
Related
These Confusing Bands Aren’t Actually From DC
Fiona Apple Wrote a Song About This Maryland Court-Watching Effort
The Confusing Dispute Over the Future of the Anacostia Playhouse
Protecting Our Drinking Water Keeps Him Up at Night
More from News & Politics
GOP Candidate Quits Virginia Race After Losing Federal Contracting Job, Trump Plans Crackdown on Left Following Kirk’s Death, and Theatre Week Starts Thursday
5 Things to Know About “Severance” Star Tramell Tillman
See a Spotted Lanternfly? Here’s What to Do.
Patel Dined at Rao’s After Kirk Shooting, Nonviolent Offenses Led to Most Arrests During Trump’s DC Crackdown, and You Should Try These Gougères
How a DC Area Wetlands Restoration Project Could Help Clean Up the Anacostia River
Pressure Grows on FBI Leadership as Search for Kirk’s Killer Continues, Kennedy Center Fires More Staffers, and Spotted Lanternflies Are Everywhere
What Is Free DC?
Manhunt for Charlie Kirk Shooter Continues, Britain Fires US Ambassador Over Epstein Connections, and Sandwich Guy Will Get a Jury Trial