

Years later, she fondly recalled a childhood that “smelled like eucalyptus trees, the Pacific ocean and jet fuel”.

He had such good sources in the fire department that he and his wife once scooped KABC-Los Angeles when its own 11pm anchor was shot outside the station. When the Northridge earthquake knocked out power to half of Los Angeles, her father used a forklift to rip open a hangar door so he could drag the chopper out and take off. The switch was the right choice because even a particularly hard-fought campaign could not compete with the drama of her upbringing.īob Tur was the kind of journalist who would do anything to get the story, “an oracle” to Katy. Her second book therefore tells a story she had spent her adult life avoiding: the story of her childhood. That hard drive convinced Tur to switch subject. Sometimes Katy felt the heat on her shins from a blaze barely 500ft below. Her daredevil father once got so close to a forest fire, he was cited for fanning its flames. The drive contained all the footage shot from helicopters piloted by her father, Bob: from Madonna giving her parents the finger on the day she married Sean Penn to the famous chase of OJ Simpson as he sped through the streets of LA in a white Ford Bronco.Īs a child, Katy was often a passenger as her mother leaned far out of the cockpit to catch the best possible shot. The package contained a hard drive, which contained every minute of tape her parents, Bob Tur and Marika Gerrard, had taken as sole proprietors of the Los Angeles News Service.
