When a Local Soldier or Marine Dies

By: Dennis Anderson The casualty notification team comprising Marines in ?Service Alpha? Class A uniforms had come and gone, having completed that saddest of duties, informing next of kin. In this case, that most unwanted of calls was brought to the door of Jim and Kathi Leon of Lancaster, concerning their son, Cpl. Christopher David Leon, 20, a 2004 graduate of Lancaster High School near Palmdale, Ca., where I edit the local daily.

The Marines -- comrades all of the living and the dead -- are gone for the moment. But not for long, and they are not far away. They will help the fallen Marine?s family with information, with assistance, with any solace that reasonably can be offered in historically unreasonable times.

Homes on the west Lancaster street displayed flags, the Stars and Stripes and flags of service, such as Navy, put out in respect for the home and family of Cpl. Leon, who was killed in Iraq on Tuesday, June 20.

The first day or so, the personal devastation is so thick, so heavy, that a distraught mother and father have to ask one of the consoling Marines, ?So, when can we expect the reporters with the microphones, asking ?How do we feel???

And that is just another burden. Ultimately, local broadcasters performed courteously, and the Leon family offered insight about their splendid son to a television audience, and they granted interview to the community newspaper, this newspaper.

Guidance indicates there is wisdom in a buffer of time, time to enable the bereaved to gather their thoughts. Can there be a time-out for the news media? It may sound like journalistic heresy, but at this paper we think so.

In this country, in this time, news media is amorphous and ubiquitous. How are people who may never have come in contact with a reporter from television or newspapers able to distinguish who will treat them with respect and who will treat them as objects for exploitation?

Few ready answers are available because reporters, like attorneys and the cable guy, come in all shapes and sizes, with ethical bandwidths that conform to the training they received and the nuances of personality and the cultures of their newsrooms.

People outside the circle of grief are ready to believe the worst about working news media because they see examples of bad behavior so often in the 24/7 broadcast news environment that saturates cable and satellite TV. The public has been exposed to altogether too much pack journalism surrounding the trials of sensation and celebrity.

So, where is the role for journalism in coverage of the bereaved from war, particularly this current and controversial war that so divides the politics of this polarized nation? Others may do it their way, but we have some beliefs about process and believe them to be good.

News media operators are generally disdained and pegged for ?only caring about the story.? Up to a point, there is nothing particularly wrong or unethical about being devoted to getting the story. That, after all, is the work at hand. The journalist is working to inform a wide public, whether the reporter is broadcast or print news media.

Some of the best journalism in the past year or so was done by broadcast and print reporters working on Hurricane Katrina, a story of devastation and enormous human loss. When you saw the risks taken by reporters from the New Orleans Times-Picayune, work done to inform a community audience about the unfolding disaster, one can only respect that work and understand why prizes were earned for doing that hazardous work in the public interest.

For the stricken relatives of splendid people -- most often young-- killed in the particularly cruel combat being waged in Iraq, there is no consolation in awards for getting the story.

So why attempt to meet with relatives and gather the story of a soldier or Marine or other service member killed in combat? Finally, there are reasons. We believe it is appropriate to contact the bereaved, but not to pursue them. If and when they decide the time is right, chances are there will be tangible value for the wider public in getting the story told.

Or, as Kathi Leon, mother of Cpl. James Leon, put it so eloquently, ?My son was more than a statistic. He was more than casualty number 2,508. He was beautiful.? His father, Jim, added, ?He had qualities of valor, and nobility. He showered great wealth on us.?

If we can share that story, then the considerations are not the urgency of deadlines, or the quest for the scoop, or the pride of place. When the bereaved have gathered their courage to share their story, then there may be many things we can all learn, about the personal toll exacted by this war, about the sacrifices offered by the too few Americans engaged in the war, about the singular characteristics of the individuals who volunteered to bear this burden and pay this price.