What’s it like to know your loved one might be among the 14 dead Marines in Iraq, but you’ve not yet heard anything?
Can any of the rest of us comprehend your anguish? Can we know your fear as you wait and worry?
I know I cannot.
“When the danger is so real, it’s a new kind of scared,” said Akron police detective Rex Lott, whose son, Billy, is serving in Iraq.
He shared that insight with Beacon Journal reporter Jim Carney in the immediate aftermath of 14 Ohio-based Marines dying in Iraq.
For Carney, his Aug. 4 article held an opportunity to show all of us what it’s like to agonize, wondering whether the next knock on the door might be a worst fear come true.
For Michelle Smith of Kent, the article crossed the boundary of human decency, exploiting family members at a time when they are most vulnerable.
“As a military spouse, I can tell you that EVERY military family is grieving for those who were lost and the ones that they leave behind,” she wrote to Carney. “And we are angry at the unnecessary trauma that you are putting these families through.”
Smith, whose husband served in Iraq last year, finished her e-mail with these words: “Please leave the families alone. Show some decency and integrity that, unfortunately, has been sorely lacking in the coverage of this conflict to date.”
When I read Smith’s e-mail, which she also sent to me, I had two immediate reactions.
First, the intensity of her anger was abundantly clear. It matched the bitterness and resentment that others connected to the war have expressed to me. Some in the military tell me the media have betrayed them for not showing more support for the war.
My second reaction was more personal. I thought, she certainly doesn’t know Jim Carney.
After 26 years at the Beacon Journal, Carney continues to be a thoughtful and caring reporter, almost sensitive to a fault. As I said in my response to Smith, he is the last person to fit the stereotype of the headline-grabbing reporter so often portrayed in the movies.
For the Aug. 4 article, Carney phoned four families. “The families were very, very amazing,” he said. “They desperately wanted to talk about their loved ones.”
He called only people whose names and telephone numbers had been given to him as contacts by individual Marines for an earlier article. One was a return call to a mother seeking information from the newspaper about her son. He made no surprise visits to their homes. He gave all the families ample opportunity to decline to talk.
That’s the kind of decency Carney has displayed since he started covering the military nearly four years ago. “I have great respect and admiration for these families and for the military community. I know that these families go through the waiting every single day while their loved one is in harm’s way.”
Still, Michelle Smith’s admonition to the paper probably resonates with many who have dealt with the media in similar situations — the television satellite trucks lining the front of the house, the repeated interviews, the ever-present cameras.
“The absolute worst time for the families of those serving in a combat zone, short of actually suffering the loss of their loved one, is the time spent waiting for news when they know that something bad has happened,” Smith said.
“So, to be covering the families at this time is a very sensitive issue, compounded by e fact that a military representative may indeed deliver bad news at any time, and the media in general has been very quick to capitalize on these moments of raw grief.”
Therein lies the conflict. Reporters really do not relish this type of assignment. There is a perception that newspeople exploit “moments of raw grief,” when, in fact, they reluctantly accept them as a difficult, but necessary part of their jobs.
Can any of the rest of us truly know what it feels like to have a daughter, brother or best friend face death daily in Iraq — never knowing, always wondering whether that next knock on the door might be the ultimate in tragic news?
Probably not.
But we close that gap in our understanding through exploring the human condition, through expressing our hopes and fears, by searching for and finding a common ground of shared experience.
For some, that brings pain and anger.
For others, it brings us closer together.
