Showing posts with label profile. Show all posts
Showing posts with label profile. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Sunny Eyes Up

Old men love waking up with NBC 10’s Lori Wilson and if you could muster up enough energy at 5 a.m. to turn on your TV and keep your eyes open, so would you. By Rosella Eleanor LaFevre. 




Lori Wilson has only been awake for eight hours and she’s yawning. But then Wilson got up around 2 a.m. “My first alarm goes off at two, and then I have one at two-ten. The very last possible alarm goes off at two-fifteen,” laughs Wilson, co-anchor of the 5 a.m. morning show on one of Philadelphia’s most-watched news stations. 

Doe-eyed Wilson sits on a large comfortable couch in an edit booth in NBC 10’s Bala Cynwood headquarters at 10 a.m., willing to tell us all about her job in the fourth largest broadcasting market. Most days, her work is done by now and she’s headed home where, on days like today, she takes a nap. 

So sometimes it’s hard to deal with getting up that early, but at least the drive is only seven minutes long. “The goal is always to be very close to the station, because it’s the middle of the night,” exclaims Wilson, who did morning shows at the last two stations she worked at. 

Around three a.m., Wilson arrives at the station to prepare for the show. First she reads through the two hours of copy, which she splits down the middle with co-anchor Terry Ruggles, in a half-hour or 45 minutes. In addition to checking the copy for accuracy and up-to-date information, Wilson pays close attention to the wording. “There are times when I have to make changes just because of the way that I speak – sometimes something is written formally and I’m a little more conversational in my delivery,” Wilson says.

After reading through the copy, Wilson reads a few newspapers – usually done online. “You never know when breaking news is going to happen and you’re going to have to give background about it, be able to vamp about it,” says the anchor. 

By 4 a.m., the beautiful, petite TV personality must be in the makeup room where, in about 20 minutes, she does her own face. This isn’t something that came easily to Wilson, who had never before worked at a station with its own professional makeup artist on staff. NBC 10’s Carie Brescia taught her everything she knows. “I just sucked the life out of her,” Wilson says with a laugh. “I was like, ‘What am I supposed to do?’ She gave me lessons and hopefully it works!” 

It sure does, most viewers would agree, getting a load of her mile-long eyelashes and blindingly white, perfect smile. The whole package is even more stunning in person. It’s no wonder that she got her start in commercials when she was in third grade. 

A Columbas, Indiana native, Wilson starred in a commercial for Indiana Bell’s call waiting service, which was the latest innovation. “I’m generally a shy person by nature so the camera was easier,” Wilson says. “I could hide behind the camera; it was just me and the camera one-on-one, even if millions of people are watching so I fell in love with that aspect of it.” 

The moment she realized how important television could be, she was watching Ronald Reagan make a State of the Union address. The whole entire country is probably watching the same thing I’m watching right now, she thought. It was powerful, she says, realizing that “we could all be connected at one time and getting information.” TV, that’s the way to go, she thought. 

Television is what gives her the opportunity, after all, to do what she loves, and that’s telling stories, inspiring people to act, and giving them the information they need in their daily lives, like “traffic, weather, what’s safe, what’s not, medical news,” she says. 

The “idea that we’re all kind of in it together” is one that continues to move Wilson. “We all come in different packages but we’re exactly the same underneath so I think stories that connect us all really draw me in,” Wilson says. “If I can tell a story about an 89-year-old grandmother that you relate to, then I feel like that’s having purpose in your life.” 


Since earning a B.A. in Journalism from Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana, Wilson has worked at four stations. Her first two stations were in smaller markets: Champaign, Illinois and Shreveport, Louisiana. Her third station, and last stop before Philadelphia, was WGCL in Atlanta, Georgia. 

At WGCL she worked as a morning anchor, weekend anchor, entertainment reporter and general assignment reporter until her boss decided not to renew her contract, which is “essentially being fired from your job.” To hear her tell it, she was the “victim of circumstance,” having had four bosses in three years, with the last deciding she was just “a little too sassy,” Wilson says. “And that’s fine. We just butted heads, so I left that job and then had the opportunity to look for another job.” 

Wilson, who believes “everything was divinely ordered and led,” got a few offers closer to home but in the interest of moving toward a network job in, say, New York City or Washington, DC, came to NBC 10 in Philadelphia. It’s a “great city that’s close to everything and has so much to offer,” she says, voicing the love she has for where she’s at. 

She says one of the deciding factors was The 10! Show, the station’s morning talk show, which she hosted when she arrived here. Also, she loves her current boss, someone who “looks you in the eye, who tells you what’s happening,” she says. “It’s nice.” 

That’s not all there is to love about her job, and despite the fact that she’s yawning today, that includes waking people up, she says. “I think there’s a way to do it. There’s a temperament, there’s an energy, there’s a seriousness and then there’s a little bit of light.” 

One of Wilson’s favorite parts of the job is the off-air stuff she gets asked to do. When you’re on television, “There’s a lot of stuff that you’re gonna be asked to be a part of in the community,” Wilson says. “Going and mentoring young girls, emceeing events that raise money for fundraisers. Those are the things that matter to me and the only reason that I do it is because I have a platform. The only reason they care about having me come out is because I’m on TV. That’s an honor.” 

As with any career, of course, it can be very challenging at times. “When you stop connecting to stories or stop being affected by things, then you probably need to do something else with your life,” Wilson says. “Like whenever harm comes to a child, it’s hard to deal with. Stories like that, when people come up missing or dead, it’s hard because I always try to put myself in the place of the families.” 

Sometimes the challenging part of the job is keeping your lips zipped on controversial topics. “It’s hard being objective in such a heated political climate,” Wilson says. And then there are times when it’s not what you say but how you say it that can cause trouble. “It’s all in your inflection when you’re a TV journalist,” Wilson says. 

One of the things industry watchers have often lamented is the shift away from hard-hitting news and toward entertainment. While it can be hard for some to accept that celebrities are making news daily or that citizen journalists are making waves with YouTube videos, Wilson looks at it this way: “Those things, based on my definition of news, which is what people are talking about, those are things you have to include in the conversation.” 

So will she be staying in Philadelphia, where her co-anchor Tim Ruggles has been for 30 years? “I’d like to be on a national platform, but I am completely satisfied and happy if Philly is my last stop,” she says.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

The Balad of Jessi and Nema

I wrote a profile of one of my favorite couples, singer Jessi Teich and photographer Nema Etebar, for JUMP, a new Philly-based music magazine.


Singer Jessi Teich and her love, photographer Nema Etebar.
(Photo courtesy of Nema Etebar)

Will power and love saved singer Jessi Teich’s voice, she says.

The singer was in jeopardy of losing her instrument last year when a cyst developed on her vocal cords. Teich’s fiancĂ©, Nema Etebar, introduced her to a friend, a world-class surgeon, who suggested surgery to remove the cyst.

People told her not to risk it. They told her she’d never sing again. Ultimately, she decided to go through with the procedure.

“I could never have the career that I wanted if I didn’t get the surgery,” Teich says.

Fortunately, the surgery was a success. And seven months after the operation, Teich released her debut album, Barely There, on Fuzztone Records.

By introducing her to his surgeon friend, supporting her decision and then assisting her through her recovery, Etebar, 32, helped Teich, 26, through the difficult period.

While Teich believes will power played a large part, she says, “In a way, Nema helped save my voice.”
Teich’s relationship with Etebar, a street photographer whom she calls her business partner and soul-mate, continually provides her with strength. The two have created a world in which they can live their dreams together. Etebar frequently shoots Teich, a brown-haired, brown-eyed beauty whose usually makeup-free face seems to transform in every picture, and she uses these images to promote her music.

They met in August 2008, three weeks before Etebar, who is half-Persian and has long, dark, wild hair that he tends to keep in a topknot, left for a month-long trip to India. They only had a small window of time together.

“We were just scrambling to get to know each other,” Teich says. “It takes time to get to know somebody, whether you’re going to be friends or lovers.”

They decided quickly.

“He is it for me and I didn’t settle,” Teich says. “Now we’re creating these tiers of art and beauty and people. I get so excited about it.”

Teich rarely performed in front of others at that point.

“I was too scared,” she says with a laugh. “I just didn’t think my music was good enough.”

One of the first times Etebar heard Teich’s silky, soulful singing voice was when she strummed a guitar and sang a cover of Feist’s “Let It Die” in his bedroom. A month later, Teich sang some of her original songs for Etebar.

“I’ll never forget those,” he says. “Because I was blown away.”

Etebar, who had been single for six years before meeting Teich, took his first photos of his muse on New Year’s Day 2009 after the Mummer’s Parade. She stood before a brown brick wall, wearing the same green hat that graces the cover of her CD, carrying a yellow Mummers umbrella.

“I was so nervous because I’d seen him take pictures of people for three or four months,” Teich says. “That birthed what we do today. That was the beginning of what he have grown into, what we have created. We planted a seed and we’ve grown an oak tree. It is a joint effort. Although he’s the photographer and I’m the model, the photos wouldn’t be the same without each other.”

Today, Teich accompanies Etebar on his street shoots. This female presence puts Etebar’s subjects – many of whom are mothers with children or homeless people – at ease.

In June 2009, Etebar introduced Teich to another friend, producer Daniel Marino. They started talking about recording an EP. Teich had planned to leave for South America with her sister that September and planned to be gone for three months. Before her departure, she and Marino get down as much of the basic recordings as possible. By the end of August, they recorded nine songs, mostly ballads.

In addition to creating images together, Teich and Etebar write songs together. They wrote  “Tuesday” and “Beggin’ You,” both of which are on Barely There.

During the spring of 2010, Teich quit talking, let along singing. The cyst was embedded in the vocal fold and by keeping silent, Teich hoped the cyst would be more defined on the day of the operation.
Teich broke her silence before going into surgery to tell Etebar that she loved him.

Etebar did not want to photograph Teich that day but she insisted. The black and white image he created shows a wavy-haired Teich dressed in a hospital gown with her head resting in her right hand and her left arm outstretched, an IV needle taped into the crook of her elbow.

“I am glad now that I have it,” Teich says of the photo. “It reminds me to keep working hard and that, no matter what the situation, if I believe hard enough and make myself strong enough, I can conquer just about anything.”

She didn’t speak for a week after the surgery. Teich broke her silence and called Etebar to say hello.
“No, you can’t do that yet!” Teich says he cried out.

It took nearly six weeks for Teich to fully regain her voice and for much of that time, she did not speak. The couple developed a system to communicate.

“We would call each other on the phone and he would talk to me and ask me yes or no questions,” Teich says. “I would hit a key once for yes, twice for no, and three times for ‘I love you.’”

Teich saw a speech therapist first and two weeks later, she started seeing a vocal therapist.

“I immediately could hear a difference in my voice and the way that it felt to sing,” Teich remembers. “It took me honestly about eight weeks before I sang a full song but it was absolutely worth the wait.”

All this time, Barely There was put on hold. Finally, Teich completed the record and released it on December 18, 2010.

“Right now, Philly’s really receptive to me,” Teich says. “I’ve been able to bring people out without really asking. I really feel like, from the bottom of my heart, outside of my ego, that my music will do well [elsewhere].”

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Salute to Service: Volunteer Plugs Into School's Needs

This article appears in Philadelphia RowHome Magazine's latest Salute to Service issue, which came out just a few days ago.

Salute to Service: Service Is Music To Her Ears

This piece appears in Philadelphia RowHome Magazine's Salute to Service issue, which came out just a few days ago.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Career Exploration: Fashion Editor & Stylist

"I'm always on the job," Abigail Bruley says, laughing. She spreads back issues of the Philadelphia-based quarterly two.one.five magazine and printouts from a large, bright green binder that reads "fashion" on the spine in hand-drawn bubble letters across a large white table in the magazine's one-room office. She climbs onto the table, in high heels and a skirt, and lies down, her left hand resting on two.one.five's first issue, to have her picture taken.

Establishing this aesthetic for an impromptu Motivos photo shoot is, as Bruley points out, a continuation or the same duties she performs as fashion and music editor at two.one.five. These duties include everything from styling fashion shoots to writing gear reviews, from overseeing interns to brainstorming themes and ideas with editor-in-chief Piers Merchant.

Bruley, 27, says she's working her dream job.

The story of how she got her dream job is not very interesting, she says. She was attending a weekly meeting for another magazine at a South Philly coffee shop and ran into Matthew Bacine, one of the publishers of two.one.five, an acquaintance. In conversation, Bruley revealed that she worked in magazines and Bacine asked if she would join his team. She did.

This article appeared in the Spring 2010 issue of Motivos magazine, in the Career Exploration section. Email me at rosellaeleanor@gmail.com to see a PDF file of the entire article.