Alex Fees

5 On Your Side's Show Me St. Louis has an opening for an executive producer.

Job Application for Executive Producer, Show Me St. Louis at TEGNA Inc. TEGNA Inc. (NYSE: TGNA) is an innovative media company that serves the greater good of our communities. Across platforms, TEGNA tells empowering stories, conducts impactful investigations and delivers innovative marketing solutions. With 64 television stations in 51 U.S. markets, TEGNA is the larges...

I am standing in the check-out line inside Ross department store with our 14-year-old, Jacob.

He is purchasing some finger board equipment he saw advertised, online. (They’re like skateboards for your fingers.)

We are just a few minutes away from home, but I told Jake that I needed to pick up his brother and drive him to piano lessons, in about six minutes.

“Think we can make it?” Jake said. The line was not moving. “Maybe with Papa’s convertible.”

Jake is intrigued by the fact that my 80-year-old father-in-law, Ed Vokoun, a retired attorney, used to drive a convertible. That was long before I met his daughter, Rachel, became a member of the family and started adding grandchildren to the roster Ed shares with my mother-in-law, Carolyn.

While I have heard about it, I have never even seen photos of said convertible. Then again, Jacob comments that Ed, whose 10 grandchildren know as “Papa,” is not someone who was likely to drive fast or recklessly.

“He is the second most cautious man I know,” adds Jake.

“Really?” I said. “Who is the first?”

“You are,” Jacob said to his 60-year-old father, who is not an attorney, not retired, and drives a 12-year-old Chevy Malibu with the “check engine” light stuck on.

The most cautious man he knows? I ponder that. Okay, I decide - I’ll take it.

Perhaps it’s not as bad as it once was. Jake and his brother, Daniel, 12, are old enough that they need some margin in which to make their own decisions and learn from their mistakes. But there was a time, when they were younger, when my attitude was - as long as I can physically prevent it, harm will not come their way.

And it pretty much did not. Call me a helicopter parent; my children are safe.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about my father-in-law, the second-most cautious man our oldest son knows. While we, apparently, have that in common, I don’t share some of Ed’s other qualities:

• retired attorney
• former pilot and airplane owner
• former Boy Scout troop leader
• abundantly patient and even-tempered

For the sake of my self-esteem, I won’t bullet-point the ways I come up short, but trust me – I could.

For several years when their five children were younger, Ed and Carolyn, a retired music teacher, owned a home at Lake of the Ozarks, in addition to their home on Chesterfield Hill. I hear lots of stories about those days, too.

Once, nearly 20 years ago – Rachel and I were engaged, but not yet married – I got to talking to a couple guys on the weight machine next to me at the gym. They were both defense attorneys and worked in workmen’s compensation law. I mentioned that my fiancé’s father was an attorney who worked in workmen’s comp. for the law firm known as Evans and Dixon.

“What’s his name?” one of them said to me.

“Ed Vokoun,” I told them.

The guy sort of snorted, and nodded his head. Then he looked down at his shoes and shook his head, as if remembering the details of some court case or settlement – something else that I was not aware of.

“Alex,” he said, “there’s no way you would know this, but your future father-in-law is like the dean of St. Louis workmen’s comp attorneys. He is to workmen’s comp what Ozzie Smith is to the St. Louis Cardinals.”

Wow. Little did I know.

Ed joined Jake and I at the driving range, just this afternoon. While I am not much of a golfer, Ed is, and has been teaching Jake the basics. Ed and Carolyn have historically been very generous to *all* their grandchildren, and I told Jake I wanted to make sure and arrive before Ed today, so we could pay for the golf balls. We did.

Ed likes to have Jake set up on the tee in front of him so he can observe Jake’s swing and mechanics. That’s fine, but while sitting behind them, last time, I observed that Jake’s backswing nearly clocked my father-in-law in the head when Ed leaned over the ball. I mentioned it to both of them, and suggested they switch positions.

Safety, first.

They did not.

So, ignoring the advice of the most cautious man he knows, our son and my father-in-law ran the risk of Jake hitting the second-most cautious man he knows in the head with a golf club.

I think they just forgot; I let it go. It gets old - always being the Safety Police. And everything turned out, fine… this time.

I am standing in the check-out line inside Ross department store with our 14-year-old, Jacob.

He is purchasing some finger board equipment he saw advertised, online. (They’re like skateboards for your fingers.)

We are just a few minutes away from home, but I told Jake that I needed to pick up his brother and drive him to piano lessons, in about six minutes.

“Think we can make it?” Jake said. The line was not moving. “Maybe with Papa’s convertible.”

Jake is intrigued by the fact that my 80-year-old father-in-law, Ed Vokoun, a retired attorney, used to drive a convertible. That was long before I met his daughter, Rachel, became a member of the family and started adding grandchildren to the roster Ed shares with my mother-in-law, Carolyn.

While I have heard about it, I have never even seen photos of said convertible. Then again, Jacob comments that Ed, whose 10 grandchildren know as “Papa,” is not someone who was likely to drive fast or recklessly.

“He is the second most cautious man I know,” adds Jake.

“Really?” I said. “Who is the first?”

“You are,” Jacob said to his 60-year-old father, who is not an attorney, not retired, and drives a 12-year-old Chevy Malibu with the “check engine” light stuck on.

The most cautious man he knows? I ponder that. Okay, I decide - I’ll take it.

Perhaps it’s not as bad as it once was. Jake and his brother, Daniel, 12, are old enough that they need some margin in which to make their own decisions and learn from their mistakes. But there was a time, when they were younger, when my attitude was - as long as I can physically prevent it, harm will not come their way.

And it pretty much did not. Call me a helicopter parent; my children are safe.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about my father-in-law, the second-most cautious man our oldest son knows. While we, apparently, have that in common, I don’t share some of Ed’s other qualities:

• retired attorney
• former pilot and airplane owner
• former Boy Scout troop leader
• abundantly patient and even-tempered

For the sake of my self-esteem, I won’t bullet-point the ways I come up short, but trust me – I could.

For several years when their five children were younger, Ed and Carolyn, a retired music teacher, owned a home at Lake of the Ozarks, in addition to their home on Chesterfield Hill. I hear lots of stories about those days, too.

Once, nearly 20 years ago – Rachel and I were engaged, but not yet married – I got to talking to a couple guys on the weight machine next to me at the gym. They were both defense attorneys and worked in workmen’s compensation law. I mentioned that my fiancé’s father was an attorney who worked in workmen’s comp. for the law firm known as Evans and Dixon.

“What’s his name?” one of them said to me.

“Ed Vokoun,” I told them.

The guy sort of snorted, and nodded his head. Then he looked down at his shoes and shook his head, as if remembering the details of some court case or settlement – something else that I was not aware of.

“Alex,” he said, “there’s no way you would know this, but your future father-in-law is like the dean of St. Louis workmen’s comp attorneys. He is to workmen’s comp what Ozzie Smith is to the St. Louis Cardinals.”

Wow. Little did I know.

Ed joined Jake and I at the driving range, just this afternoon. While I am not much of a golfer, Ed is, and has been teaching Jake the basics. Ed and Carolyn have historically been very generous to *all* their grandchildren, and I told Jake I wanted to make sure and arrive before Ed today, so we could pay for the golf balls. We did.

Ed likes to have Jake set up on the tee in front of him so he can observe Jake’s swing and mechanics. That’s fine, but while sitting behind them, last time, I observed that Jake’s backswing nearly clocked my father-in-law in the head when Ed leaned over the ball. I mentioned it to both of them, and suggested they switch positions.

Safety, first.

They did not.

So, ignoring the advice of the most cautious man he knows, our son and my father-in-law ran the risk of Jake hitting the second-most cautious man he knows in the head with a golf club.

I think they just forgot; I let it go.

This time.

https://www.ksdk.com/article/entertainment/television/show-me-st-louis/violinist-alvin-fry-sets-the-tone-when-it-comes-to-building-instruments/63-55d29d0b-11d3-4be2-a1ef-584e6e7d4e1d

Violinist, Alvin Fry, sets the tone when it comes to building instruments Alvin Fry has built a guitar for Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, and more. He's now set out to build the best instrument available at an affordable cost.

As a 60-year-old video story-teller, in my not-so-new role as KSDK community impact manager, I am (re)-discovering the benefits and the possibilities of feature work!

Watch for my "Show Me St. Louis" piece on Sept. 4 about Alvin Fry, a Gray Summit man whose stringed musical instruments are gaining some significant attention.

Kids 'Touch a Truck' event in South St. Louis County Alex Fees shares his story of a fun-filled afternoon at The Kids 'Touch a Truck' event

“What are you doing up?”

I don’t normally have company when I get out of bed in the middle of the night to let the dogs out to p*e. It’s a hold-over from the 1:30 wake-up time when I was a reporter for the morning show.

It’s 2:37 a.m.

Our fourteen-year-old, Jake, startled me in the kitchen. I was grabbing Nova’s leash and turning on the light. It throws some illumination into the bedroom, so I can see when I lead her out of the closet, where she lives her life. While our recently-adopted, 35-pound, mini-Aussie shepherd is reticent, Allie, who is 105 pounds of lab-collie-St. Bernard affection, knows the routine. She’s already waiting by the back door, eager for the opportunity to obey.

She, too, seems surprised to see Jake. He is not a part of our usual routine.

“I was getting up to have a burger,” he explains, like only a 5’-10” teenager can. He’s as tall as I am, and he towers over my wife - his mother - Rachel. Jake unfolds like a large insect when he gets up off the couch, these days – all legs and wingspan. Does a lot of bicep-flexing in front of his parents.

I don’t know where he gets that(!)

I misread the clock on the stove – it’s not 2:37. It’s 12:37. That explains it – Jake hasn’t gone to bed, yet.

“You were… ‘getting-up-to-have-a-burger?’”

I quote it back to him and laugh. He gets the irony. He’s clearly glad to have this unexpected company in the middle of the damn night, and very talkative. I, on the other hand, am wearing boxers and whatever shoes were on the floor beside our bed… and having trouble shaking off the sleep.

When Jake says “getting up,” he doesn’t mean waking up. He means crawling out of his loft bed and coming out of his bedroom for his second dinner. We had a full weekend of celebrating my 60th birthday with my in-laws, my brother and sister-in-law, my sister, and Aunt Betty Fees. Went out to eat two or three times, and mom and dad are always monitoring calories.

Jake, on the other hand, is absolutely absorbing them.

Channel 5 has a small gym, and Jake asks me to work-out before I come home, so I don’t upset his combination of weights on the barbell in our basement. I get it. After a lifetime of exercise, the only thing I like less than working out is having to change the weights on the bar. Let’s just get this over with.

I like to emphasize certain points with Jake and his brother, Daniel, 12: It won’t always be like this.

• There will come a time when you cannot get up and eat at 12:37 a.m., for a variety of reasons - mostly having to do with digestion and calorie-intake.
• There will come a time when you can’t stay up until 12:37 a.m. and function the next day.

But these are halcyon days for these adolescents. For now, they can lean into it and exercise their options. Jake is good for postponing lawn-mowing until the following day, when possible. Whenever possible. I would never do that. Might rain; then what?

“Leave time for things to go wrong,” I am fond of saying, in my battle against deadlines, at work. “Things will go wrong.”

“Tomorrow has 412 other things to worry about.”

“You’ll be glad you did.”

“No, that’s okay,” Jake reassures me, when the question of grass-cutting, today, comes up. “I’ll do it, tomorrow.”

I always remind myself that I hated cutting grass at that age. Like him, I had absolutely no other responsibilities.

Standing next to the microwave in Jake’s 24/7 Kitchen Cafe, he casually raises his elbows, forming a “V” behind his head. A sinewy bicep winks at me.

Jake and Daniel both have their mother’s disposition. Very laid back. Let life come to you.

I, on the other hand… attack. That comes from 30 years facing down deadlines as a television reporter, where if you don’t take the initiative, you miss a deadline, or a video opportunity.

Or the story.

My late mother once told me, “You go at things like you’re slaying snakes.”

True. But that accomplishes the objective.

Okay, the dogs are p*ed. Nova hurried back to her closet, and Allie stood in front of her crate in the basement until I opened the gate to let her in. She spends the second half of each night in her “condo.”

We are all creatures of habit.

Tomorrow is one of 17 area parades 5 On Your Side is participating in. As community impact manager in the marketing department, I organize KSDK’s participation in each parade and produce a story with reporter Mary Thaier, which airs the next day on Show Me St. Louis. While I no longer have to get up in the middle of the night, the evening summertime parades make for a long day. Better go back to bed.

You’ll be glad you did.

Searching for a new creative director at KSDK 5 On Your Side.
https://boards.greenhouse.io/tegnainc/jobs/4385220007

All hands on deck for severe weather, yesterday! Got recruited from my role as community impact manager to be a reporter, again, for storm damage in Sullivan, MO.

Sullivan struck by severe weather for second day in a row Wednesday, the perpetrators were high winds and water.

KSDK 5 On Your Side News is hiring a director of digital.

https://www.tegna.com/explore-careers?gh_jid=4353636007

Apply here and tell them you heard about it from me.

Explore Careers - TEGNA

Allie is working with distributors to market her own brand of D-I-Y canine eclipse glasses...

“Can we get dessert”

It’s a text from Jake, one of our sons.

It’s dark outside, and I am sitting in a Starbuck’s in University City, right across the street from Dewey’s Pizza, where Jake, 14, is having Valentine’s Day dinner with his girlfriend, who is also 14.

I would like to have posted a photo to accompany this story, but that’s apparently out of the question. I don’t even ask, anymore.

This was the deal. I drive them to Dewey’s for dinner, and pay the bill. I brought my laptop to work on a story I began at work today about 5 On Your Side’s partnership with the Susan G. Komen Foundation and their breast cancer research. My social worker wife, Rachel, is on-call and working. Daniel, 12, is home with the dog and cat.

I didn’t mind the “assignment,” so to speak - chaperoning the two of them. The impact Rachel and I can have on these two growing boys is becoming more and more subtle.

The news broke, today, about what happened in Kansas City at the Superbowl celebration parade. So, suddenly, I’m in protective dad mode, in case something “goes down” in a crowded restaurant on Valentine’s Day. I can see Jake and his girlfriend through the window, across the street in booth 52 - I overheard somebody at the hostess station say what number it is.

From this vantage point, I’m certainly not in any position to prevent anything from happening. But I’m seconds away, in case it does. I realize it’s a false sense of security.

I wonder if it has occurred to my 14-year-old that if something happens, they are steps away from an exterior door. I doubt he thinks about things that his soon-to-be-60-year-old former television reporter Dad does, every time I enter any public place.

Exit strategy.

How do we get out of here if something bad happens? When something bad happens?

“Yes,” I respond to the text about dessert. “Peanuts!” I add, reminding him to be cautious and notify his server about his potentially deadly allergy. I neglected to quiz him about whether he has his epi pens with him. Rachel and I dread the day he’s away at college and we can’t fill in these blanks.

The one other customer in Starbuck’s has left and I’ve got the place to myself. I’m sitting with my back to the counter because I’m trying to be inconspicuous. I don’t want to have to buy anything. That’s ironic, coming from the guy who spent 15-20 years of his life spending $4.00 a day on café mocha. Now, I don’t drink coffee unless it’s free. KSDK, fortunately, treats us to Keurig single servings, so I’m spoiled in another way. Besides, it’s too late for caffeine… something else I would’ve never said, 20 years ago.

I am wrapping up my story and pleased with the progress I have made.

Another text.

“Nvm on dessert we’re both full,” he said. “We’re ready btw.”

Part of me celebrates the fact that he spelled dessert correctly, and not like “desert.”

It’s been a good night.

In partnership with the TEGNA Foundation, 5 On Your Side is looking to give away $40,000 in community grants in 2024. If you or someone you know run a non-profit in the St. Louis area, take a look at the requirements and fill out an application. The deadline to apply is Feb. 28.

Apply now for a 2024 TEGNA Foundation Community Grant The application window is now open for nonprofits to apply for a Community Grant courtesy of 5 On Your Side and the TEGNA Foundation.