Super Trooper

Last October, as Hurricane Milton threatened Florida, a white bull terrier with dark ears was abandoned off the side of the road along Interstate 75 near Tampa. It was raining and the water was rising. Florida Highway Patrol trooper Orlando Morales was on patrol when he got the call about the dog and checked it out.  To his surprise, he found the dog, gently calmed him and eventually coaxed him back to the safety of his police car.

Nearly a year later, the dog, named Trooper of course, has found a new home with a couple in Parkland, Florida. When I heard about the rescue and the dog finding a new home, I pitched a story and it was finally published a few days ago at The New York Times where I work.  With everything going on in the world today with breaking and often depressing and tragic news (which I write a lot about,)  I thought this was an uplifting story and it has to do with something I am very fond of -- dogs!  When I told my friends that I was working on a longer story, one said "I thought this was going to be something else but this is so YOU!"   Yes, a hurricane + Florida + dog + rescue = a Johnny Diaz story. :)

You can read the story by visiting this link.

Photo courtesy of Frank Spina, Trooper's new daddy

The story also was published in the Sunday New York Times.  This is one of my all-time favorite stories to report and write.

Black Bears in Florida

In my past five plus years at The New York Times, I've covered a lot of breaking news stories. Some have included animals and a lot of bears which seem to be a regular topic for me. 

I've writtten about fat bears in Alaska where there is an annual competition for people to vote for their favorite hefty bear. I've written about efforts to restore the grizzly bear population in the Northwest Pacific. I've also covered polar bears that killed a remote worker in Canada.

So I was surprised when I had to cover a story about man and his dog who were killed by a black bear in southwest Florida in May because bear attacks in the state are rare.  People also associate Florida with alligators, iguanas, dolphins and sharks but we do have black bears, about 4,000 of them and as my story noted, they can run up to 35 miles per hour and climb a tree in 30 seconds. 

Here is my story on the bear that killed an 89-year-old man, the first reported fatal bear attack in Florida history.

The authorities at the scene of a black bear attack in Collier County, Fla., in May.Credit...Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission via New York Times

How I Got The Covid Vaccine and Some Side Effects

 It was just past 11 a.m. on Saturday when the Facebook post popped up on my news feed.

It was from a fellow journalist Marc Caputo who said that he was at the Florida City Youth Center where workers were providing Covid-19 vaccine shots, no...questions...asked. Of course, I read in.

"What?" I thought to myself.

He  posted a photo with the city's police chief who had confirmed the same thing to him. Mr. Caputo said he was waiting in line, which was about 40-people deep.

So instead of watching my usual Grey's Anatomy reruns on Netflix with my doppio espresso and croissant from Starbucks, I made a run for it. I didn't even give myself time to change my clothes (baseball cap, tank top, shorts and sneakers sans socks.) I grabbed my wallet, keys, phone, mask and cup of water and hightailed my Beetle to Florida City. 

I got there in about 30 minutes (there was no traffic, really!) As soon as I got in line, I saw that it gradually began to centipede down the block.  I was about the 40-something person in line.  To my surprise, ahead of me, I recognized a familiar face and mop of straight black hair, former radio news host and regular MSNBC political commentator Fernand Amandi whom I had interviewed a few times when I was a reporter at the South Florida Sun Sentinel. He was in line with his lovely wife Chenell.

Just as I was about to reintroduce myself (we didn't immediately recognize each other with our masks) Marc Caputo emerged from the center with a band-aid on his arm and his CDC Covid test card. I and others in line thanked him for his post. His post was a life saver.

While we waited, the Amandis and I caught up and talked about our pandemic year, the pros and cons of working from home, not wanting to leave our homes in the Miami area and the idea of always to continue to wear a mask on planes after life gets back to normal.  (That's Fernand and myself in line on Saturday. I was holding my organizer filled with documents that I indeed was a Floridian.)

After standing in line for about an hour where I also bumped into Miami filmmaker Billy Corben a few rows back, we finally made it inside a room at the center where FEMA workers and nurses awaited. They asked me for my Florida proof of residency (my driver's license) and medical questions that involved allergies and whether I had been diagnosed Covid and treated for it.  I kept thinking they were going to ask me for medical documentation (which they didn't and I didn't have). I was prepared to pull down my tank top and show them my scar from my recent heart surgery. But that wasn't necessary.  I was asked which vaccine I wanted and I went with the one-time Johnson & Johnson shot.  Johnson & Johnson & Johnny. 

A few minutes later, a lovely nurse asked me where I wanted the shot (my left arm) and she asked if it was okay to do it on my shoulder tattoo which she thought was dolphin but was a shark. (Happens all the time.) Another nurse said she was happy to take a photo of me as I received the shot.  The needle on the syringe looked really long and I was a little nervous. But I didn't feel a thing. It was over before it even started. I was relieved and I felt I had some peace of mind. I had to wait for 15 minutes at the center (which I spent chatting with Billy bout his upcoming documentary called Kings of Miami and Netflix) before leaving to make sure there were no immediate adverse effects. The process was easy, smooth and the staffers were friendly. A Saturday morning well spent.

Like so many other people around the country, I was scared of catching the virus but even more so after I had open-heart surgery last August at Mount Sinai Medical Center in Miami Beach. My doctors had warned me I was at high risk for catching the virus given the surgery and living in South Florida (which has had high infectious rates) so I did my best to stay even more indoors than pre-surgery.  At least this Covid-19 vaccine will add an extra layer of protection and that soothed my fears, anxiety.

And like so many other Floridians, I was confused about when and where I could get the shot. I kept hearing different requirements from Miami-Dade to Broward counties which border each other. At first, it was intended for people over the age of 65 and then that expanded to include front-line workers and public school teachers (like my sister) over the age of 50. But some sites were offering people the vaccine if they were over the age of 18 and had documentation from a doctor that they were at high risk.  

During my recent physical, my primary doctor said that she would support me in getting the vaccine because of my medical history (ulcerative colitis, bladder cancer, high blood pressure and aortic aneurysm. I'm a Grey's Anatomy storyline waiting to happen.) I thought I would have to wait a while for my shot at the shot. (pun intended.) But when I heard about the Florida City FEMA site doling out doses to anyone over 18, I took a chance and dashed over.

I wasn't the only one. Word about the site spread like wildfire on social media, resulting in lines of hundreds people.  More than 400 people got the shot the same day I did. The next day, the site returned to the state's original requirements and people were turned away. The secret was out and the story became local and national news including my newspaper, The New York Times.

I am glad I got the shot but it did come with some apparent side effects. The day after the shot, my back and arms ached. By early Monday morning, I felt fatigue and the muscular ache had spread. I also had chills. I told my doctor and she said that was common among people who got the vaccine and if the symptoms hadn't gone away after two days, to let her know. Most of Tuesday, I still felt feverish and a little achey but I feel better now as I write this. I shared this with my cousins in Boston where they were getting the same Johnson & Johnson vaccine this week.

People in South Florida have asked me on social media how did I get my shot even though I am not 65 or over 50. These are some sites I recommend. They include Broward Health in Fort Lauderdale where you can make an appointment even if you are over 18, CVS, and Dr. B which matches people with clinics that have leftover vaccines.  My old paper The Miami Herald has been reporting on the various sites such as Miami Dade College North, Overtown, Florida City and Sweetwater (suburb west of Miami) where you can get a shot, with or without an appointment.  And Miami on the Cheap has been updating where people can find the vaccine in South Florida.

The juggling jogger of South Florida

During my runs in Coral Gables, I've occasionally spotted a certain fellow runner. The first few times, I did a double-take. It wasn't because he was shirtless, sweaty and shredded although none of that hurt.

This guy isn't just running. He's juggling balls, three to be exact, of various sizes. A football, tennis ball and another round ball.

I don't know how he does it. The talent! I've fallen now and then during my own runs because I tend to move to the beat of whatever dance music I'm listening to Pitbull, Jennifer Lopez, etc. (Not to brag but I did a 8:15 mile the other day.) When I am not timing myself, I run a slower pace to one of Oprah Winfrey/Deepak Chopra's 21 Day Meditations. They make 2 to 3 miles feel like five minutes. I call those my Oprah/Chopra Runs.

Anyway, I shot a video of the talented mystery runner doing his thing Aug. 8 just before I was about to start my own run near the University of Miami. In fact, that's where I usually spot him. He must be a 'cane.

Maybe he should be on NBC's "America's Got Talent" or some fitness talent show.

Florida Jeopardy fun

I've been having fun (maybe too much fun judging by my three most recent stories) rediscovering "Jeopardy'' since James Holzhauer began his 22-day winning streak. How does he do it anyway?  Then Miami school teacher Matthew Bunch competed twice during the annual teacher's tournament, giving me another reason to watch (and write.) And the show has resurged in ratings, helping local affiliates such as Miami's WPLG-Ch. 10.

As I tune into the show and quickly blurt the answers (right and wrong but mostly wrong) from my sofa, I couldn't help but wonder about all the Florida-related "Jeopardy" questions from over the years.

With our weird news cycle thanks to all the "Florida Man" incidents and colorful wildlife (manatees, gators, chupacabras, etc.) and personalities (Pitbull,) the Sunshine State has became a bottomless well of trivia for the game show.  Florida is a go-to-resource for all sorts of questions and answers.

At the Sun Sentinel, I compiled some Florida-esque categories and clues that have been featured on the show over the years.

See if you can answer some of them.

Manatee Tale

Manatees are everywhere in South Florida yet  they rarely get some media love. Most of the attention and headlines go to the sharks, gators, dolphins and killer whales.

Yet manatees are loved down here. So it was a pleasant surprise to see a new Geico commercial that shows how cute they are.

The spot features three manatees sporting funny shirts, "Did Someone Say Tacos'' and "Come At Me Bro.'' By the end of the commercial, there's a fourth sea cow with a pink T-shirt that says "Let's Cuddle."

Thanks to the commercial and some other recent pop culture mentions including Jeopardy! questions, the manatee is finally having its moment.  (There's even a Manatee festival in West Palm Beach to celebrate a lagoon where they enjoy basking in during the winter months.)

I wrote a feature about all the manatee love in the news lately.

Folks who live down here probably have a story of some type of manatee encounter or another. Growing up in Miami Beach, I've seen them gently bobbing behind condos that face Biscayne Bay. Below the surface, they gracefully glide, seemingly lost in their own world as they graze for cabbage, lettuce and vegetables.

But when they surface, they hang around as if to say Hi. (I like to think they're looking for veggie hand outs.) No matter how many times I've seen them, it's always a surprise when they suddenly appear, like a sweet gift from the universe.