Reporters and photo journalists enter each day not knowing where their story assignment will take them. I have walked through tornado debris, done barrel rolls in a bi-plane, and stood in the sewer, all in pursuit of a story.

But, on a trip to Jackson County, Indiana to investigate a police-involved shooting, photographer Ron Johnson and I found ourselves in a race for our lives, outrunning a charging bull.

We were at the side of a county road preparing to show how the shooting happened, when we heard a very unusual sound, a sort of distressed whine followed by heavy, heavy footsteps.

From across the field came a very big, very mad, black bull, his eyes dead set on our Ford Explorer and me in the passenger seat. Ron scrambled to get to the drivers seat, somehow got his camera to me and hit the gas just as the bull reached the edge
of the road.

I know that an electric wire is supposed to keep that bull from exiting the field, but it's just one thin piece of metal and if that bull wanted to reach us, he could. I've seen King Kong.

Once safely in the car, we drove back by, admiring our new friend as he reveled in his victory, scaring the snot out of two city slickers. I grabbed Ron's still camera and shot this photo.

If you know bulls, you won't surprised like I was at the sound this one made, a sort of siren burst every half second, a shreek that even got the attention of a horse in the opposite field.

We escaped to report another day.