I recently wrote an article on fundraisers surrounded a local resident's death and helping his young family. It was unexpected (complications from sleep apnea) and he left behind his wife, a stay at home mom, and two little girls. My article was held for this week, and I was told to add to it and speak to a family member, as well as the people organizing the fundraisers. I managed to get in contact with his mom, and we had a great conversation. His family really does need the fundraisers. Anything bad that could happen is happening to them. After speaking with her, I thought it might be kind of cool to speak with his boss, friends, and other family members. I was interested by this person and wanted people to know who he was. I asked my editor today if we could do the fundraiser story, but also have a sidebar about who this man was. No, better to just put them together. She was apologetic. He wasn't "important enough" to give the space to. Which I understand. We have to draw the line somewhere.

It makes me sad.

His five-year-old followed him around outside, helping him with cars, yardwork... whatever she could. He drove from Bethesda to Mount Airy every night and read his daughters a bedtime story. He wrote poetry and rapped with his fifth grader. They have demo tapes. He worked so his wife could stay home with the girls, one with severe food allergies. His mom has his Donald Duck ornaments she hung on her tree this year. Lines of people she didn't know came to the funeral. The family received cards with money and no signature.

There's so much more. And it will never be in my paper and you will never know anything more about him and he will fade into a memory and a ripple of influence he planted.

Important enough is a shallow construct.

I know it's ridiculous, but I wanted more. I wanted to write more and have him be somebody other than the name on the paper you see next to the Chicken Dinner or Raffle. I wanted him to be somebody in print.