In my 20-plus years as a reporter, I’ve written hundreds of feature stories. More times than not, you often lose track of your subject once the story is published.
For example, back in December of 2004, I wrote a story about U.S. Army Spc. Josh Schroder, then just 20 years old. Schroder had surprised his mom with a visit home from Iraq, and his mom had surprised him by drawing a large yellow ribbon in the driveway.
Flash forward to about three weeks ago. I’m talking with my upstairs neighbor, who had just moved in. He introduced himself as Josh, and said he was a West Haven firefighter. When I said I was a reporter at the Post, he said he was once in the Post. I kept my fingers crossed that it was for something good, and he began to tell the story of surprising his mom with a visit home from Iraq – the story that I had written. It really is a small world.
This is a nice story.
An American hero.
A mother’s love and pride.
A son’s love and desire to surpize his mom.
The American hero got home and safe.
He got a good job, with pay and benefits,
which requires fitness and courage.
A professional witness and reporter finds
her story has a happy followup.
She is lucky to have a hero as an upstairs
neighbor and he is lucky to have a downstairs
neighbor who appreciates him.
Josh … My dad was a WW II Combat Vet.
From age 12 to 18, my friday nights were in
US Naval Reserve Sea Cadets, where I choose
to not pursue a military option, for various
reasons including a father who spent too much
time in / out of the Veteran’s Hospital, where
more people were there from Alcohol & Tobacco
than from Military disability. (both sad)
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Genny: Good story with psychic gratification.
Josh: Thank you for your service to our country.