After loss of Alison Parker, WDBJ anchor lives in honor of her and himself
Chris Hurst holds a pair of Alison Parker's ballet shoes. Photo: Heather Rousseau
The Roanoke Times | Dec. 14, 2015 | PDF and PDF
By Amy Friedenberger
Wearing a tuxedo and a smile, Chris Hurst spun and twirled around on stage thinking all the while of Alison.
It was supposed to be her dancing with the WDBJ (Channel 7) anchor during this weekend’s production of “The Nutcracker.” A skillful dancer, she signed them up several months ago. But Hurst didn’t want his new partner, Mitzi Keeley, to feel like a replacement.
“Alison just set the stage,” Hurst said.
The Southwest Virginia Ballet dedicated the show to Alison Parker, 24, Hurst’s late girlfriend and WDBJ colleague. It’s been nearly four months since Hurst, 28, lost Parker.
A disgruntled former WDBJ employee shot to death Parker and Adam Ward, a 27-year-old cameraman, in August during a live broadcast from Smith Mountain Lake.
Hurst set out to accomplish a variety of tasks to honor Parker but also to help him grieve by, in a sense, extending his time with her.
“It’s helped me kind of not have such an abrupt ending to her life,” he said. “When I woke up that one day, she was gone, so it makes me feel close to her in a very tangible way.”
Like so many people who have lost loved ones to gun violence, Hurst has felt some pressure to make sure Parker’s name is never forgotten. With the ballet being the final task, Hurst says he is starting to make a transition in his life, one that he thinks Parker would want him to do.
“Living for her and in her honor means living for myself,” Hurst said.
Happy and in love
Hurst woke up Aug. 26 to a call from the news station, telling him to come in. He’s the night anchor, and Parker worked on the early morning show.
Just hours after her death, he walked outside the television station’s building along Hershberger Road in northwest Roanoke to address some of the local media before the number of reporters swelled as national attention took hold. He clutched a scrapbook, filled with memories of their first nine months together and blank pages they hoped to fill.
They didn’t hide their relationship — which began Jan. 1 — but they didn’t share it publicly. They had recently moved in together and intended to get engaged. It was some of the happiest moments of Hurst’s life. Parker wanted to announce their relationship on her professional Facebook after they returned from a whitewater rafting trip in early August, but Hurst was wary. He didn’t want people to relegate her to simply “the anchor’s girlfriend.” He knew she was talented, and he didn’t want to detract from viewers seeing that. So when she died, his first undertaking for Parker was to go public with their relationship.
“I know that she wanted everybody to know how happy and in love she was, so that was the first thing I wanted people to know, that we were together,” Hurst said.
Hurst then took time away from work to grieve. Cards, flowers, poems and books on grief poured in.
He went to grief counseling and group therapy sessions. He spent a lot of time with Parker’s family, who told him more about her, which increased his love for her. Andy Parker, Alison’s father, said Hurst has become like a son.
“It’s been very difficult for us, and in a way, it may be more difficult for him,” Andy Parker said. “Because at least we had 24 years with Alison, but he only had nine months.”
Love, not hate
Hurst returned to his anchor chair Sept. 14. During the 6 p.m. news show, with poise he addressed the audience with a message about love and healing.
“I have been away from you healing with those Alison loved the most and new friends from places like Newtown and Aurora,” he said. “Through many, many tears and questions, there have been laughs, smiles and answers. I know the answer to what we all must do, and it is to profess love, not hate.”
WDBJ General Manager Jeff Marks said he never doubted Hurst would return to the air. Hurst’s healing, Marks said, has been critical to others’ healing at the station.
“As we watch Chris deal with his emotions and perform these public services that he’s doing — whether on the air or in the ballet — it’s all very inspiring and helps us stay on course,” he said.
Shortly after his return, he and morning anchor Kimberly McBroom got to work on a story Parker had only just started. The day before she died, she returned home and excitedly shared with Hurst how she had finally arranged for interviews with a family who had someone in hospice care.
The series was a painful one for Hurst to report, because of the topic of death and saying goodbye — something he never had the chance to say. WDBJ News Director Kelly Zuber said it helped that Hurst had a partner in McBroom to help him through the challenges of reporting a difficult subject matter.
“Kimberly being on the morning show, she had been close with Alison,” Zuber said.
WDBJ aired the series, called “The Long Goodbye,” in November. During one segment about support groups, Hurst choked up on live television.
“Grief is the pain we feel after a loss,” he spoke to the camera, with Alison’s beaming face on a screen behind him. “Mourning is the visible showing of that grief. Saying their name out loud. Alison, I do love you more than ever before.”
The series was well-received by the Roanoke Valley community on social media. Hurst has been public with his grieving process, posting sometimes multiple times a week on his professional Facebook about moments he and Alison shared together. The support from the region has been comforting, he said.
Sprinkled throughout social media have been the suggestions that the shooting was a hoax, that Hurst and Parker’s father are actors. Hurst has had to push through that, but he said such claims have generally not come from people in the region.
“I think we’re in a unique position where the hate and vitriol has not come from this community,” he said.
Spreading love
To celebrate six months together, Hurst bought Parker a pair of tickets to Taylor Swift. Parker was a big fan. With the right shade of red lipstick and her hair styled a certain way, Hurst said, she even looked like the singer.
Hurst thought about going alone. He also thought about going with Parker’s mother. Ultimately, he gave the tickets away.
He got in touch with a 13-year-old girl named Hope, with whom Parker had grown close. Parker interviewed Hope for a special on child abuse and neglect, which aired a week before her death.
Hurst gave Hope and her mother the tickets to the show in Greensboro, North Carolina, and then he also got in touch with local radio station K92 to get them to work their contacts and get the two backstage to meet Swift.
“Everyone has been trying to give me so much love, and here was my opportunity to try and do as much as possible with that,” Hurst said.
Hurst saw Hope on Friday. She sang in a concert choir performance at a Roanoke County middle school. She wore Parker’s pearl earrings, necklace and bracelet that Hurst gave her.
Hurst and Parker’s family are still sorting through her things, such as the dresses she wore on camera or bought because she loved getting dolled up for an event with Hurst. Hurst said he wants to spread her love and memories.
For days after the shooting, Hurst held on to two items: the scrapbook he showed everyone outside the newsroom and a pair of her ballet pointe shoes.
Hurst never had the chance to see Parker dance on stage. Besides “The Nutcracker,” Parker planned to dance in an event to raise money for the Salvation Army’s Turning Point domestic violence shelter. Her partner would have been Pedro Szalay, artistic director of the Southwest Virginia Ballet.
“It’s been very emotional,” Szalay said. “Chris has been very supportive in keeping her memories alive.”
Hurst plans to get her pointe shoes bronzed and made into a plaque, which he’d like to have displayed at the Ray Hollingsworth Dance and Arts Studio in Martinsville, where Parker danced for 12 years.
On Sunday, before Hurst’s final performance at the Berglund Performing Arts Theatre, Szalay draped Parker’s worn pointe shoes from a nail on a wooden clock sitting on stage. Hurst gazed at the shoes, wiped away tears and gratefully hugged Szalay: Alison got her moment on stage.
By Amy Friedenberger
Wearing a tuxedo and a smile, Chris Hurst spun and twirled around on stage thinking all the while of Alison.
It was supposed to be her dancing with the WDBJ (Channel 7) anchor during this weekend’s production of “The Nutcracker.” A skillful dancer, she signed them up several months ago. But Hurst didn’t want his new partner, Mitzi Keeley, to feel like a replacement.
“Alison just set the stage,” Hurst said.
The Southwest Virginia Ballet dedicated the show to Alison Parker, 24, Hurst’s late girlfriend and WDBJ colleague. It’s been nearly four months since Hurst, 28, lost Parker.
A disgruntled former WDBJ employee shot to death Parker and Adam Ward, a 27-year-old cameraman, in August during a live broadcast from Smith Mountain Lake.
Hurst set out to accomplish a variety of tasks to honor Parker but also to help him grieve by, in a sense, extending his time with her.
“It’s helped me kind of not have such an abrupt ending to her life,” he said. “When I woke up that one day, she was gone, so it makes me feel close to her in a very tangible way.”
Like so many people who have lost loved ones to gun violence, Hurst has felt some pressure to make sure Parker’s name is never forgotten. With the ballet being the final task, Hurst says he is starting to make a transition in his life, one that he thinks Parker would want him to do.
“Living for her and in her honor means living for myself,” Hurst said.
Happy and in love
Hurst woke up Aug. 26 to a call from the news station, telling him to come in. He’s the night anchor, and Parker worked on the early morning show.
Just hours after her death, he walked outside the television station’s building along Hershberger Road in northwest Roanoke to address some of the local media before the number of reporters swelled as national attention took hold. He clutched a scrapbook, filled with memories of their first nine months together and blank pages they hoped to fill.
They didn’t hide their relationship — which began Jan. 1 — but they didn’t share it publicly. They had recently moved in together and intended to get engaged. It was some of the happiest moments of Hurst’s life. Parker wanted to announce their relationship on her professional Facebook after they returned from a whitewater rafting trip in early August, but Hurst was wary. He didn’t want people to relegate her to simply “the anchor’s girlfriend.” He knew she was talented, and he didn’t want to detract from viewers seeing that. So when she died, his first undertaking for Parker was to go public with their relationship.
“I know that she wanted everybody to know how happy and in love she was, so that was the first thing I wanted people to know, that we were together,” Hurst said.
Hurst then took time away from work to grieve. Cards, flowers, poems and books on grief poured in.
He went to grief counseling and group therapy sessions. He spent a lot of time with Parker’s family, who told him more about her, which increased his love for her. Andy Parker, Alison’s father, said Hurst has become like a son.
“It’s been very difficult for us, and in a way, it may be more difficult for him,” Andy Parker said. “Because at least we had 24 years with Alison, but he only had nine months.”
Love, not hate
Hurst returned to his anchor chair Sept. 14. During the 6 p.m. news show, with poise he addressed the audience with a message about love and healing.
“I have been away from you healing with those Alison loved the most and new friends from places like Newtown and Aurora,” he said. “Through many, many tears and questions, there have been laughs, smiles and answers. I know the answer to what we all must do, and it is to profess love, not hate.”
WDBJ General Manager Jeff Marks said he never doubted Hurst would return to the air. Hurst’s healing, Marks said, has been critical to others’ healing at the station.
“As we watch Chris deal with his emotions and perform these public services that he’s doing — whether on the air or in the ballet — it’s all very inspiring and helps us stay on course,” he said.
Shortly after his return, he and morning anchor Kimberly McBroom got to work on a story Parker had only just started. The day before she died, she returned home and excitedly shared with Hurst how she had finally arranged for interviews with a family who had someone in hospice care.
The series was a painful one for Hurst to report, because of the topic of death and saying goodbye — something he never had the chance to say. WDBJ News Director Kelly Zuber said it helped that Hurst had a partner in McBroom to help him through the challenges of reporting a difficult subject matter.
“Kimberly being on the morning show, she had been close with Alison,” Zuber said.
WDBJ aired the series, called “The Long Goodbye,” in November. During one segment about support groups, Hurst choked up on live television.
“Grief is the pain we feel after a loss,” he spoke to the camera, with Alison’s beaming face on a screen behind him. “Mourning is the visible showing of that grief. Saying their name out loud. Alison, I do love you more than ever before.”
The series was well-received by the Roanoke Valley community on social media. Hurst has been public with his grieving process, posting sometimes multiple times a week on his professional Facebook about moments he and Alison shared together. The support from the region has been comforting, he said.
Sprinkled throughout social media have been the suggestions that the shooting was a hoax, that Hurst and Parker’s father are actors. Hurst has had to push through that, but he said such claims have generally not come from people in the region.
“I think we’re in a unique position where the hate and vitriol has not come from this community,” he said.
Spreading love
To celebrate six months together, Hurst bought Parker a pair of tickets to Taylor Swift. Parker was a big fan. With the right shade of red lipstick and her hair styled a certain way, Hurst said, she even looked like the singer.
Hurst thought about going alone. He also thought about going with Parker’s mother. Ultimately, he gave the tickets away.
He got in touch with a 13-year-old girl named Hope, with whom Parker had grown close. Parker interviewed Hope for a special on child abuse and neglect, which aired a week before her death.
Hurst gave Hope and her mother the tickets to the show in Greensboro, North Carolina, and then he also got in touch with local radio station K92 to get them to work their contacts and get the two backstage to meet Swift.
“Everyone has been trying to give me so much love, and here was my opportunity to try and do as much as possible with that,” Hurst said.
Hurst saw Hope on Friday. She sang in a concert choir performance at a Roanoke County middle school. She wore Parker’s pearl earrings, necklace and bracelet that Hurst gave her.
Hurst and Parker’s family are still sorting through her things, such as the dresses she wore on camera or bought because she loved getting dolled up for an event with Hurst. Hurst said he wants to spread her love and memories.
For days after the shooting, Hurst held on to two items: the scrapbook he showed everyone outside the newsroom and a pair of her ballet pointe shoes.
Hurst never had the chance to see Parker dance on stage. Besides “The Nutcracker,” Parker planned to dance in an event to raise money for the Salvation Army’s Turning Point domestic violence shelter. Her partner would have been Pedro Szalay, artistic director of the Southwest Virginia Ballet.
“It’s been very emotional,” Szalay said. “Chris has been very supportive in keeping her memories alive.”
Hurst plans to get her pointe shoes bronzed and made into a plaque, which he’d like to have displayed at the Ray Hollingsworth Dance and Arts Studio in Martinsville, where Parker danced for 12 years.
On Sunday, before Hurst’s final performance at the Berglund Performing Arts Theatre, Szalay draped Parker’s worn pointe shoes from a nail on a wooden clock sitting on stage. Hurst gazed at the shoes, wiped away tears and gratefully hugged Szalay: Alison got her moment on stage.
