INDEPENCENCE DAY

About a week ago, I put a photo of Alan Johnston on my sidebar. I got the idea from another blog I read. The BBC reporter was kidnapped in Gaza four months ago. More than 200,000 people signed a petition calling for his release and bloggers all over the world included his picture on their pages.

Johnston was released yesterday. I feel a little foolish writing about this, because I was a little late to the game in paying attention to Johnston's fate. After the Daniel Pearl murder, stories of kidnapped journalists are more than I can stomach.

I can only imagine what Johnston's family has been going through for the last four months. Julie gets concerned if I stand out in the sun too long while reporting a story. When I drove a treacherous mountain road to cover the James Kim search, it made the woman I love very unhappy.

I don't want to draw too many parallels between myself and Mr. Johnston. Yes, we're both journalists, but I'm the equivalent of a McDonald's fry chef in the business, and Mr. Johnston is working at Spago. (But I make excellent fries, don't get me wrong.) My job isn't all that dangerous, although a guy did threaten to kill me and a photographer once. But Alan Johnston's job was extremely dangerous.

Gaza is probably the toughest beat for any western journalist. As a matter of fact, he was the only western journalist who was even trying to report full time from there. When an assignment is that difficult and that dangerous, a news director won't send you there unless you volunteer.

So I am glad to hear he's safe and free and heading for a reunion with his family. Even us lowly fry chefs have reason to be proud of him today.