Chasing catastrophe, p.33
Chasing Catastrophe, page 33
But when I started spending quality time with Kelly, I realized it was time to pivot. I’d been living in my bubble for a long time. She introduced me to a whole new set of people and places, sharing a world I hadn’t seen or experienced before, and I wanted to be in that world with her forever.
Life with Kelly is charmed. I’ve never had so much fun with a partner. As corny as it might sound, Kelly and I were sharing love and laughter, in near-perfect sync with each other. We’re cut from the same cloth, despite our very different backgrounds and experiences. She was the partner I’d always dreamed of.
I’d often said I’d never move to California, but when I met Kelly and realized the only way to be together was for me to do just that, I didn’t hesitate for a second. Being apart for even a few days at a time was really difficult for both of us, and I knew we couldn’t pull off a long-distance relationship. So, right around the time I proposed to Kelly, I asked for a meeting with Jay Wallace, who’d been promoted to president of Fox News Channel the year before.
Jay and I had been friends for more than fifteen years. He rose through the ranks at Fox, working in the newsroom and producing Shep’s show and even doing time as the New York bureau chief, acting as my immediate supervisor. We played on a city league basketball team together (and won four championships), we competed against each other every fall in a Fox Fantasy Football League, and his vacation home was literally down the street from mine in Westhampton.
“A-1!” he said. He always called me that. My nickname from Chicago had followed me to New York.
I sat down across from him in his spacious second-floor office, with its high ceilings and massive windows facing the plaza out front and 6th Avenue beyond.
“I need your help,” I told him. “Kelly is the woman of my dreams and we’re getting married, and she can’t move here.”
Jay asked me if I was sure, and I told him I was.
He definitely wasn’t happy about it.
“If I do this for you [transferring me to the LA Bureau] it opens the door for a bunch of other people to ask for the same thing,” he told me.
“But it’s been done before!” and I gave him examples of other correspondents who’d jumped from one bureau to another.
“I can make it happen but it’s gonna take time,” he warned me. “And if I move you, you’re gonna have to stay in L.A. I won’t be able to bring you back.”
I wasn’t worried about that. I was just worried about having to wait.
I kept checking in to find out if there was progress on my transfer. I spoke regularly with Nancy Harmeyer, the L.A. bureau chief, who respected my work and was happy to have me move there, but it wasn’t her call. I got intel on other moves that were about to happen that would help to clear a path for me, and things were progressing, albeit slowly, and then the pandemic hit.
New York City was the epicenter in the early days, so I was busy covering the impact of the virus every day. It was the worst possible circumstances for me, trying to leave when there was this kind of news breaking daily in my backyard. I was a bit less concerned because Kelly was able to stay with me for much of the first half of 2020, but I had other pressures. We’d rented a house because her lease was up, and I moved her in and was paying the rent, along with the mortgage on my city apartment, the mortgage on my beach house, and the mortgage on the condo I bought in Florida.
This was a lot for me to carry. I had a tenant all lined up to rent the Florida condo for more than my mortgage, but when the lockdowns started, his plans to build a new home nearby got put on hold, and he couldn’t commit to my place. It then became nearly impossible to rent or sell the place, because management wouldn’t let anyone on the property who wasn’t a resident. It took months before my realtor was allowed to show it. I knew I could sell my city apartment because I’d just gut-renovated the place and it looked fantastic, and the huge terrace made it a rare and still affordable property. My beach house practically rented itself, and still does, but at the time the financial pressures were real, and I was eager to start my new life.
I would gently nudge Jay from time to time and ask others in management if they’d heard anything about a change in my situation. I started getting more and more frustrated as the months went by, but finally, in late June, I got word that my last day in New York would be Friday, July 3.
I was free to book my flight!
I packed a bunch of suitcases, shipped the rest of my clothes in boxes, took that Friday off and got a seat up front on the United flight that had been my best friend the past few months, direct from Newark to John Wayne International in Orange County, with the Polaris lay-flat seats and big flat-screen TVs. My life was changing in ways I’d never thought possible, and my career with Fox would be over in less than nine months.
A QUIET GOODBYE
I commuted to the LA office from our home in Newport Beach for about nine months, fifty miles each way, reporting early mornings, during prime time and anchoring overnight coverage of breaking news events. It was a busy stretch, but my passion for breaking news had evaporated. My heart was with Kelly, and after twenty-four years of being one email, text, or phone call away from packing my bag, I was ready for a break.
I officially left Fox in June 2021, at the end of my eighth three-year contract. Twenty-four years was a long time to spend in one place, but of course that one place took me to thousands of places. It was an incredible run and the greatest job I’ve ever had. I earned a great living, worked with bright, talented people, traveled to some of the best and worst spots on Earth and experienced things most could only dream of (and yes, some of those dreams would qualify as nightmares).
It was strange to leave without fanfare, from an office I’d barely worked in. There was no goodbye party with hundreds of colleagues. There was no party at all. I was promised one in the future, but we were still in a pandemic, and I was thousands of miles from the vast majority of my former colleagues.
The network took very good care of me on my way out the door, meaning I wouldn’t have to worry about going back to work for a while, and my 401(k) and pension accounts were enough to insure my comfort in my even-more-golden years.
It was time to relax and spend quality time with Kelly and Jolie and the rest of our family and friends and not worry about traveling on a moment’s notice to somewhere I didn’t necessarily want to go. We began working on our own projects including our Rick & Kelly Unmasked (now called The Rick & Kelly Show) podcasts, buying and remodeling a house we bought in the desert, and writing about my greatest adventures.
It’s been the best year of my life. I’m grateful for everything I have, and grateful to you for reading my book.
Acknowledgments
This book highlights some of the most incredible adventures of my career, none of which would’ve been possible without the people I worked and traveled with for nearly thirty-five years.
There have been hundreds if not thousands of photographers, producers, engineers, editors, fixers, security guards, and other crew members I spent considerable time with, who helped get us to locations, find interview subjects, collect information and video, gain access to people and places, communicate with the network and show producers back home and make sure I got on the air and our content was properly edited and shared with viewers.
To each and every one of you talented, hardworking people I say thank you. Thank you for helping me tell my stories. Thank you for making me look as good as I could while doing it. And thank you for keeping me alive.
To Pat Butler, the engineer on the ground with me in lower Manhattan on 9/11 who got us on television and kept us there throughout the worst, most chaotic day I’ve ever experienced, you will always be my brother and will always have my utmost respect.
To Carlos Van Meek, my first producer at Fox News Channel, who I traveled with extensively and who helped guide me through the early years of my network career, I will always appreciate your knowledge, perspective, and support.
To Tamara Gitt, Lissa Kaplan, Kathleen Foster, Andrew Fone, and Ron Ralston, you will always be my favorite producers who helped ensure my facts were straight and my scripts were accurate and tight.
To Scott Wilder, John “Hollywood” Kisala, Paul Celeste, Rob Ginnane, Tommy Chiu, and the rest of the Fox cameramen, our journeys were always more meaningful because we shared them together.
To Christian Galdabini, you were my rock in Iraq. We endured the most difficult and challenging conditions ever and actually had fun doing it because of your incredible drive, poise, energy, and sense of humor.
To Richie Harlow, my photog in Libya, you are supremely talented, dedicated, and entertaining and made our journeys truly rewarding.
To former General Stacy Clardy, who led the Marines battalion we embedded with into Iraq, thank you for keeping us safe and informed and for being a true friend ever since.
To all of my friends and contacts in law enforcement who trusted me with inside information and shared facts and insights on developing stories, thank you for consistently helping me get out front with the best, most accurate reports possible.
To my family and friends who put up with my constant travels and frequent last minute cancellations of personal trips, dinners and events because of work, I’m sorry I missed so much and will always appreciate your understanding.
And finally, to Pierre Zakrzewski, a cameraman who I worked with many times overseas who was killed during the conflict in Ukraine, you will always have my utmost respect. You were one of the nicest and hardest working guys I ever met, fearless and relaxed in some of the most stressful environments and most dangerous places on earth. I was always amazed by you and always looked forward to working together. May you Rest In Peace.
Rick Leventhal, Chasing Catastrophe
