Jonathan Meyer.

From my very first week at the paper, my partner in crime has been Mike. I still remember when he posted on Facebook that we were the Woodward and Bernstein of the Tama-Toledo News Chronicle. While that might be a stretch, I’ll admit our partnership has led to some great stories–both the ones we’ve published and the ones we’d rather forget.

This week, we decided to recount our latest shenanigans from both of our perspectives. We call it: dueling columns.

For the past few weeks, my coworker Mike had been tossing around the idea of driving around to photograph the area’s best Halloween decorations for some Facebook content. Perfect, I thought–a chance to hang out and get some work done at the same time. What happened during the next three hours, though, could only ever belong on page four of the News Chronicle.

We started our evening at Mike’s place, heading out in his converted police cruiser to capture the spookiest, most creative displays around. Mike drove while I handled the camera.

I’ll admit, the learning curve was steep. For some reason, I had reservations about using flash to take photos of people’s houses at night–but I set those feelings aside in the name of great journalism. To make things even more questionable, one of our first stops was Officer Wunn’s house. Fantastic. Now I’m the guy taking flash photos outside a police officer’s window.

Both of us had some growing pains. I needed to figure out which camera settings worked best for photographing houses at night–a strangely specific skill. Mike, on the other hand, needed to figure out where exactly we were going. While we technically had no plan beyond “start in Toledo,” I think he had a vague route in mind–though that didn’t stop us from veering off course every time a distant light caught our attention.

After a quick gas stop, we made our way to Tama, and that’s when things got interesting. Along the way, we spotted all sorts of wildlife: a raccoon disappearing into a sewer, a cat batting at Halloween decorations, and a group of high school students hanging out at the Partnership’s playground around 9 p.m. Okay, maybe that last group doesn’t count as “wildlife,” but when I snapped their photo, their eyes glowed in the flash just like the raccoon’s.

When I pointed out some beautifully decorated houses along the highway, Mike–the responsible elder of the two–suggested we park at Family Dollar so I could hop out and take a few shots. I instantly knew what he was thinking. “You’re going to drive away,” I told him. “No, I won’t,” he said. Famous last words.

As I walked across the parking lot toward the display, I could almost hear a countdown ticking in my head. Any second now, the car would take off. Sure enough, as I headed back toward the street, I heard the car jolt to life. Without hesitation, I took off running. What began as a jog turned into a full blown sprint. I was actually gaining on him–though to be fair, Mike was driving like someone’s grandpa.

With my camera in one hand, I yanked open the car door and jumped in, out of breath but victorious. Mike was laughing so hard that tears streamed down his face–so naturally, I snapped a photo.

Once we both caught our breath, we continued photographing more festive houses. No one called the cops on us, though we did end up talking to one. As we passed Toledo Heights, we spotted a patrol car looping through the park. We waited for the officer to pull up, explained what we were doing, and exchanged a friendly wave before moving on.

By the end of the night, we’d taken a couple hundred pictures, avoided any official warnings, and I only had to sprint half a block to catch my ride. I’d call that an all-time night with Mike.

Until I run you down again, Mike – which I guarantee will happen soon – I’m Just Jonathan.