Excerpt: 'The Newsbreaker,' by Larry Garrison

Larry Garrison knows the news. Over the past 25 years, he has worked with a slew of networks and shows bringing to light some of the most significant stories of our time.

In his latest book, "The Newsbreaker," Garrison divulges untold details about some of the biggest stories of the past few decades, including the Oklahoma bombing, the Jon Benet Ramsey murder and the Mary Kay Letourneau scandal.

Garrison reveals what happens behind the headlines -- how the news changes from the scene of a story to when it hits a television screen -- and offers readers a rare look inside one of today's hottest industries.

Read an excerpt from "The Newsbreaker" below:

I hate traffic. Driving home up Highway 101 -- Hollywood behind me and my home in Westlake before me -- a thirtymile drive takes over an hour. The one good thing about Southern California road time is that it gives a person a chance to reflect.

I had just dropped off lunch for my twenty-one-year-old daughter, Lindsay, at the movie set where she was working. She had forgotten to pick it up before work and coaxed me into delivering it. I got to the set and was proud of my daughter's professionalism. I spoke with the director for a moment and watched a take. Just as I was leaving, one of the extras asked, "So, Mr. Garrison, what kind of work do you do?" I just smiled, shook his hand, and walked back to my car.

My kids have a tendency to be a little dramatic. It's a direct result of having a father who has been involved with the entertainment and news industry for the last twenty-five years. For twelve of those years, I've been a single dad. Because of that, my kids have often been exposed to my work. And like me, they're also becoming goal-driven adults with a dash of overachiever. This troubles me when I think about my middle child -- how relentless the business is that she's chosen. The money and romance of the entertainment industry are hard to resist, but it's those same traits that make it cutthroat and competitive.

Ambulance chaser and media whore are just a couple of the less flattering descriptions used to label me and what I do. Most jobs have titles like firefighter, CPA, or whatever. One or two words or an acronym, and that's all the explanation needed. The easy out for me is to say that I'm an executive producer for film and TV. But what I do requires much more explanation than a simple title can provide. No matter what the short descriptions are, they describe only part of what I do. Ambulance chaser? Maybe so.

Part of my work requires that I be on the lookout for people who get caught up either directly or indirectly in a situation that is so far out of the ordinary that their story becomes newsworthy. Personal injury attorneys, the other so-called ambulance chasers, have been the butt of jokes for years. Some view them as scavengers whose only purpose in life is to search out and exploit the misfortunes of others.

Most people go through their lives oblivious to the workings of the civil law process, until misfortune rams into their lives and they really need help from someone who knows the system. Lawyers, I guess, will always take the brunt of jokes -- until they're needed. Then they become a victim's best friend. Attorneys have to be familiar with the laws to represent their clients well, to ensure the highest possible settlement, or to successfully argue in front of a jury why their clients are entitled to compensation for their pain and suffering. Lawyers take an oath to do just that -- represent their clients to the best of their ability.

My clients are of a different nature. I don't practice in a court of law; I operate in the court of public opinion. But the people I represent need me in the same way a victim needs a lawyer. My clients have often been thrust into territory so far

from what they're accustomed to that the process could chew them up and spit them out without someone like me to watch out for their best interests. In much the same way lawyers help their clients through the legal system, I help my clients navigate the media machine, specifically the news media. And even though I don't always chase them, I am always on the lookout for them.

I have more than eighty other people in the field on the lookout. I call them stringers, field people, and sometimes producers, as they often work with me on producing a story for the news. They could be doctors or lawyers or anything at all. One of my most significant researcher/producers is my sister, R. Stephanie Good, Esq. As a lawyer, author, and sponsor of humanitarian causes in New York, she has brought me countless stories that have ended up in your living room via TV news. My sister does it to get the spiritual side of stories heard, but other bookers often have a different agenda. Most are moneyhungry or just get a rush out of finding newsworthy stories. They scour local papers, keeping their ears to the ground, knowing that whoever is the first to find that story that makes you say "Oh, my God" out loud may be in for a cut on a film or book deal.

It has been said there are two sides to every story, then there is the truth. I am on the lookout for the people who can give you the truth of a story that has captured public attention. Although I have dealt with stories regarding some of what goes on behind the scenes at the White House and with many celebrities, most of what I cover is mainstream. It is not often that I am involved in matters pertaining to national foreign policy, and I offer less attention to people who claim to have been abducted by aliens. My work lies somewhere between the tabloid headlines and the stories covered in Time magazine, but everything is fair game. And yes, I must admit I love those major sweep stories that I put on the covers of magazines and bring to the attention of the world.

Maybe when asked what I do, my answer should be that I provide the public with the news stories it cannot get enough of -- the kind of stories people talk about at the office water cooler, at hair salons, or over casual lunches. Most of the content is not really that important in the grand scheme of things, but everyone knows the stories because they can't resist their pull. I am not owned by any of the big news organizations anymore. Rather, I supply them with the stories viewers want to know about. If the story and conditions are right, I'll develop it into a book or movie.

The American public's appetite for news has changed drastically over the years, as has the news itself. A few decades ago, fatherly figures on sterile sets provided information on the events of the day and left it to viewers to form an opinion of what was important. They delivered the facts and the public was left to draw its own conclusions. Once in a while, the newscasters gave their opinions, but they clearly stated it was a commentary.

There were no twenty-four-hour news channels, and, aside from the nightly telecasts, most of the news shows were seen Sunday mornings and on the occasional bulletins that are now called breaking stories. News organizations left entertainment to the entertainers that followed the newscast. Somewhere along the way, news moved away from the news and became more of a business, and the priority changed. Ratings are paramount, and it is the American public that drives the ratings war.

News organizations still pride themselves for being accurate, informative, and unbiased; but the ratings war has changed the face of news and the way it operates. Instead of the Walter Cronkites of yesterday, today you see younger and much-more-attractive-than-average newsmen and newswomen reading news scripts into the camera. TV news has become more of a show. News is delivered from elaborate sets, luring viewers to believe that newscasters are sitting in a living room while they sip their morning coffee; or that the newsroom really is right there in the studio, and reporters can actually be seen working diligently in the background. Many times, a ticker tape runs along the bottom of the screen to offer additional news, just in case the story being covered by the talking head isn't good enough to keep the viewer's attention. As they deliver the news, there is more voice inflection here, little comments there -- whatever it takes to keep you tuned to their channel and not the competitor's.

In Cronkite's day, all that was heard in a newscast was the voice of the reporter. Now, when sad stories are reported -- the discovery of the bodies of a young boy and his mother after an extensive search hoping to find them alive, for instance -- you hear mournful music in the background to accentuate the tragedy. There are also the shows that try to sway an individual's thought process as they report the news. This type can be seen just about any time of day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. These shows take current news stories and milk them for all they are worth. The subject matter might be petty, like why movie stars' marriages fall apart. But it can also be much more significant, with far-reaching effects.

Ten years ago, in December 1996, the nation first heard the name of six-year-old Jon Benet Ramsey, who was found murdered in her upper-middle-class home in Colorado. The case soon became the subject of household conversation, due to the amount of coverage it received. Before this, the job of the news agencies was to report only the facts, but something changed with the Ramsey case. The media took it upon themselves to play jury. Instead of simply reporting the evidence, reporters analyzed it on-air and drew conclusions as to what might have happened. No one came out and said that the child's parents killed her, but almost every update to the story made sure that the public knew that the parents were the prime suspects.

When new evidence was brought to light, the media would spin it to seem more damning to Jon Benet's mother and father. If evidence was introduced that might lead people to believe the parents were not guilty, it was downplayed. With the barrage of reports and the loss of true objectivity, the media, in short, passed judgment on John and Patsy Ramsey and destroyed what remained of their tragic lives. The media reports that Patsy was jealous of her daughter and trying to live her failed modeling career through Jon Benet was sickening. It was almost as if the news agencies were trying to establish a motive to support their suspicions. Reporting quickly changed to speculation and became cruel.

I spoke with the Ramseys in the early part of 1997. We discussed the possibility of doing a book to strengthen their case in the public eye, but at that time the media was on a witch hunt. Even though I brought plenty of information to the networks that contradicted what they were reporting, it was too late. The only thing they were interested in broadcasting was absolute proof that the parents didn't kill their daughter, or things that would increase the suspicion that they did. It is a lot harder to prove you didn't do something than to prove that you did. In my gut, I knew the Ramseys had nothing to do with their beautiful daughter's death. I remember the frustration I felt for them as we parted ways later that year.

In January 2005, DNA evidence proved that the Ramseys were not guilty. Scientific evidence showed that someone else had been in the basement of the Ramseys' home. The news magazine show 48 Hours ran the report, and a few pieces did make it to the air, but the damage was already done. The only people who truly hold the media accountable for what they report are the media, and it doesn't add to the ratings when you admit that you were wrong. For every minute of coverage the exoneration received, there were hours that implied the Ramseys' guilt.

Maybe it was with the advent of cable news. Or maybe someone just came up with the idea that if they could make the news more interesting and entertaining, more people would watch, the ratings would go up, and more money could be made. Whatever the cause, the newscast as we knew it changed. Even the stories, or types of story, have changed. Things that made page three of the local newspapers in the fifties and sixties are now part of the headlines. What middle-aged man from Middle America killed his wife and almost got away with it, or what teacher is having an affair with her underage student? Things that were not considered newsworthy back then, or were just swept under the rug, have become part of the headline hype. The stories that really have no impact on the day-today lives of the majority of viewers are the very stories that they become fascinated with and have come to demand from their news.

These stories have to have someone to tell them, and that's where I come in. I represent the people who have the news that the American public is hungry for. That hunger has created my job.