We Thought We’d be Friends Forever
I woke up this morning to find a new podcast in my feed, “The Doodler.” San Francisco Chronicle reporter Keven Fagan takes listeners back to the seductive, sinister 70s when San Francisco’s gay neighborhoods were transformed for a harrowing year into killing fields.
In short order the listener is introduced to Dan Cunningham, the very cold case detective assigned to work on Patty Vance’s case. The Cunningham I had hoped — not only by virtue of duty, but because of the Irish connection (wink, wink) — would clear a space on his desk to put his eyes on her cold case file. Fagan meets with him at Ocean beach, the crime scene of one of The Doodler’s victims. Then they meet again at a coffee shop and Fagan pumps him for information about the case. Fagan interjects every now and again to remind the listener that the case is still open, so Cunningham can’t share any details. Fagan is stifled, but good-humored about it.
I wish I had the high production value of a podcast backed by the San Francisco Chronicle and Ugly Duckings Films. I would give my back teeth to have connections to private detective, Mike Taylor, a former colleague of Fagan’s. Did I mention the 9-1-1 calls Fagan has managed to dig up? You can see where this is going. Everything about my pursuit of justice for Patty has a DIY stamp on it. I don’t even have the time or expertise to properly editing a podcast or add music. I’ve got no career in journalism, or connections to law enforcement. I’d be surprised if Cunningham would even take me up on an offer to visit Patty Vance’s crime scene or join me at a coffee shop, so I could ask all my questions. I’m not a podcasting or blogging whiz. I’m just a friend.
This blog, and the podcasts Word Press has now made easy to record are nothing if not scruffy, bare-boned. Garagecast is more like it.
