Tampa Bay Times journalist talks about article on Florida gun crime laws, future of journalism

Nicholas Edward Wooten
The Five Talk
Published in
7 min readApr 25, 2016

Orville Lee Wollard fired one life-changing shot from his .357 Magnum into his living room wall. Now, he wears No. 248834 on his faded blue prison shirts.

The former professor is serving 20 years. He was charged under Florida’s 10–20-Life laws.

“‘Pull a gun, 10 years. Fire a gun, 20 years,’ the ads said, amplifying the point to the sound of steel prison doors slamming shut. Injuring or killing someone with a gun would get you 25 years to life.”

Steve Bousquet, The Tampa Bay Times’ Tallahassee bureau chief, spent four months in Wollard’s world examining all the details he could get access.

The article centers around Wollard and his relationship with his then teenage daughter, Sarah, and her boyfriend, Austin O’Hara.

O’Hara abused Wollard’s daughter and the young couple regularly attempted to steal prescription drugs from Wollard and his wife Sandy.

The article then shines a light on Wollard’s spotted past. Bousquet examined Wollard’s relationship with Sandy, the time that Wollard locked himself and his two daughters in his bedroom after threatening to harm his wife’s parents and reports that Wollard wanted to make anthrax.

But Bousquet also includes statements from his daughter, whose call to the police eventually led to Wollard’s arrest, the judge who originally sentenced Wollard and others who paint the imprisoned father to be a sympathetic character.

I chose this article because of its nuanced portrayal of the subject and its ability to demonstrate how policy can impact an individual. Bousquet also has a wealth of experience in the field and could provide me with helpful tips.

For those reasons, I spoke with Bousquet about the article and his journey through the journalism profession.

Bousquet became familiar with Wollard by seeing local and national television media coverage of Wollard’s case.

Like many reporters do, Bousquet had to make the decision about whether the story was newsworthy or not.

“[The case] happened came up last September,” Bousquet said. “Something about the name sparked my memory. From there, I began to dig deeper and deeper into his situation.”

Bousquet felt the case was compelling because of the sentence Wollard got, but also because he didn’t fit the criminal stereotype.

“He didn’t really have much of a criminal background,” Bousquet said. “He had a stable family for a long time and lived in suburbia. He was not only college educated, but [he also] taught at the college level.”

Bousquet ran into several challenges while working on the article. Florida, a state known for its strong open government laws, has a secretive clemency process. The board is composed of four statewide elected officials. Currently, Gov. Rick Scott, Attorney General Pam Bondi, Chief Financial Officer Jeff Atwater and Agriculture Commissioner Adam Putnam comprise the board.

The hearings, according to the Florida Commission on Offender Review’s website, is the constitutionally authorized process through which convicted felons can receive a relief of their punishment and seek a restoration of their civil rights. Convicted felons in Florida forfeit the right to to vote, sit on a jury, hold public office and possess a firearm.

Nearly every document for the clemency hearings, such as the letters that came to the state and the governor for and against Wollard’s release, are exempt from disclosure to the public.

“We’re the only state with this kind of structure,” Bousquet said.

But Bousquet was not going to be denied. He talked to whoever he could. One source led to another, and then another.

“Little by little, you peel away the layers of the onion and each person you talk to gives you something that you didn’t know,” Bousquet said. “It’s the greatest thing about being a reporter.”

Bousquet eventually found Donald Jacobsen, the judge who originally sentenced Wollard to jail. Jacobsen told Wollard that he sent a letter urging that Wollard be freed. Bousquet would have had no idea the letter existed without Jacobsen revealing that information.

Five years ago, Wollard filed the petition for commutation of sentence, asking the state to release him.

That request set in motion an investigation of his past that included asking the sentencing judge for his views.

“I announced at sentencing that the minimum mandatory sentence of 20 years in prison was excessive,” Jacobsen replied in a handwritten letter. “I would have imposed a much different sentence if I was not duty-bound to apply the law as enacted by the Legislature. I would recommend that Mr. Wollard receive a commutation of sentence based on the circumstances surrounding his crime.”

Jacobsen said he has never written such a letter in any other case he has tried.

Bousquet also encountered family members that who didn’t want to speak on the record. Some didn’t want to speak at all, like Wollard’s elderly parents who live just outside of Orlando. Bousquet called a few times, but was told by another relative that the case traumatized the family. He eventually gave up.

“Aggressiveness is prized, but being obnoxious is not a good trait for a reporter, usually,” Bousquet said.

The interview with Wollard that Bousquet conducted at the prison was also difficult. Wollard had to request the interview. So, Bousquet wrote to him explaining what he was doing.

Bousquet said that Wollard was very articulate and had given interviews before, so the former college professor knew what he was doing. It wasn’t the first time that Bousquet had interview someone in prison, though he doesn’t do it often.

Bousquet had to be careful not to portray Wollard as a “one-dimensional, martyr type figure,” he said.

“He has not lived a perfect life,” Bousquet said. “He’s had troubles along the way.”

Bousquet was working on other projects at the time, so not all of the four months was dedicated to this piece. He said he spent roughly three 50-hour weeks. It appeared in a special monthly feature section of Tampa Bay Times called The Floridian.

The magazine stretches reporters, or takes them out of their comfort zone. It gives them the opportunity to write a more in-depth story they don’t usually get to do. The editors of the section came to Bousquet and asked if this article could be featured in The Floridian, Bousquet said.

“I’ve been at the paper for 15 years. I’ve only written for the section two or three times,” he said.

The response from the story was mostly positive.

Bousquet received a lot of emails from readers that felt Wollard’s sentence was “a miscarriage of justice.” A couple of readers felt that Wollard’s punishment was deserved. Some readers thought that Bousquet wrote the story to get Wollard released, but he disagrees.

“Some people come to the conclusion that I’m sort of championing his case,” Wollard said. The answer to that is no, but any reporter who is truthful and honest would say that you hope that the the stories you write would galvanize people into action.”

Despite the positive responses, Bousquet has a few things he would like to change about the article. He wishes he had more time to report on it.

“If I had more time, I might have gone to Wisconsin and met with his wife, Sandy, face-to-face,” he said.

The Wollard piece was a continuation of Bousquet’s fascination with public policy and government.

For the Tampa Bay Times, Bousquet covers court decisions, the death penalty, the state budget, elections and the mechanisms as well as the problems with voting.

Bousquet, 62, started as a reporter in 1972. He was born and raised outside of Providence, Rhode Island. He worked in radio and television up there before coming to Florida 35 years ago. He joined the Miami Herald in 1984 after working ABC station in Miami. He covered local government there before coming to the then St. Petersburg Times in 2001. The paper changed its name a few years ago to The Tampa Bay Times.

He enjoys covering state government because it allows him to do different forms of watchdog journalism, such holding powerful officials accountable for their actions and using open records laws to get information that the government doesn’t want the public to have.

“There’s no more dynamic place to do it than Florida,” he said.

For those interested in this kind of work, Bousquet says a broad, liberal arts based education is the first key.

“ I think you’re better off today not majoring in Journalism. Major in History. Major in Political Science … anything like that will work,” he said.

In addition, practical experience is a must, Bousquet said.

“That might mean working a number of internships and working for free,” he said.

But the most important thing to have is a love for the profession.

“You have to have a passion for this life,” Bousquet said. “It’s a call.”

A picture of Bousquet taken from his LinkedIn account.

Nick Wooten is a Journalism and Southern Studies major at Mercer University in Macon, Georgia. He currently serves as the Managing Editor of The Cluster, Mercer’s student-run newspaper. He is a former NOLA.com | The Times-Picayune arts and entertainment intern. This summer, he will be a features writer for the Chicago Tribune.

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