...

I usually don’t write about my job because that’s generally considered a bad idea. But I’ll break my rule tonight. Just this once.

I’ve spent most of the past week covering the story of the Kim family. They got lost in the mountains west of here while driving to the coast and wound up stuck in a snowstorm. Nine days after they got lost, rescue crews found the mom and two children. Two days after that, they found the father dead about eight miles from the family car.

While the search only became national news in the past few days, a small band of local reporters (including me) had been working the story for almost a week before Wednesday’s terrible conclusion.

It was a draining story to cover. You get wrapped up in the story as the days tick by and things get more desperate. You cheer when the good news comes. Then when the news turns bad, you’re sick. You’re sick, but it’s your job to display a steely reserve on air and appear concerned, yet professional and somewhat detached.

In the year since I moved here, I’ve already covered a few missing person stories that gained national attention. This one captured the imagination of people like nothing I’ve ever seen, perhaps because it’s easy to put yourself in the position of the Kim family. They just took a wrong turn at the wrong time.

In the days since the search ended, my mind is still swimming. I’m haunted by the image of the four members of the Kim family trapped in their car, hungry, tired, probably a bit frightened. I can hear children crying and parents trying to reassure them that everything will be ok. I can see a husband walking away from his family for the last time, hoping his journey will save their lives. At times it’s all too awful to contemplate, but it still doesn’t go away.

When I’m up in the wee hours of the morning feeding the twins, I’m overcome by emotion as I think of them hungry, lost, and alone. I keep thinking about what I would do if faced with the same dire circumstances the Kims were.

I never knew James Kim, but his actions during the last days of his life speak volumes about the man he must have been. I wish it was in my power to write some fitting tribute to the man. It isn’t. However, NPR’s Scott Simon wrote a moving tribute here. It is a very worthy read/listen.