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billvon

Goodbye Marie

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I wasn't sure whether I should post this in Blue Skies or here, but since it wasn't a skydiver this seemed more appropriate.

When I was a baby my parents were very close to a few other couples in our home town of Oyster Bay. The Van Ripers were one, the Boeggemans, the Colvins and the Singels were the others. Outside of our immediate family these were the families we grew up with, went to school with and hung out with.

The Colvins had five kids before their father died suddenly. He left Marie, Eileen, Cat and two brothers fatherless, and we spent a fair amount of time with them trying to fill that void just a little with visits and dinners together.

Marie was our first babysitter. I was 10, she was 18, and she'd come over to care for me and my two younger sisters when the adults went out. She usually put up with our nonsense with good grace - "Billy, are you sure your father said you could use the circular saw?" "Oh definitely." "OK, but you can't use it to cut down the trees."

As we got older Eileen started to sit for us. I was 13 and she was 17, and for some reason I started getting more interested in our female sitters. Years later she was a water safety instructor and I got both the lifeguard and WSI ratings from her. Learning the cross chest carry with her was especially fun for a 16 year old kid.

Cat and I had been in school together since first grade, and during eighth grade we got pretty close. We came close to "going out" in that awkward pre-teen way but she hung out with the cool kids and I definitely didn't. Then I went to a private high school and she went to the local public school and that was the end of that.

Meanwhile Marie went to Yale and got a job with UPI. She moved on to the London Sunday Times, where she became their Middle East correspondent, and then became their Foreign Affairs correspondent.

Whenever I came home from college I'd get the local update from my parents and it always included what Marie was doing. "She interviewed Quaddafi the other day and he said XXXX," my parents would tell me. It felt strange to have one degree of separation from Quaddafi.

In 2001 I heard that she had lost an eye to a hand grenade that someone tossed as she was making her way back from interviewing the Tamil Tigers in Sri Lanka. People told her she should retire, but she just got an eyepatch and went right back into the field. Afterwards someone asked her if that was a stupid move on her part. She said "So, was I stupid? Stupid I would feel writing a column about the dinner party I went to last night. . . .For my part, the next war I cover, I'll be more awed than ever by the quiet bravery of civilians who endure far more than I ever will. They must stay where they are. I can always leave."

I'd see her very rarely. I think I saw her twice in the two decades I graduated from college, when our trips back to NY would line up by chance. She always intimidated me because she had accomplished so much, and was one of the bravest people I had ever met.

She was killed yesterday by a rocket attack on her location in Syria. A week earlier the Syrian military threatened to "kill any journalist who set foot on Syrian soil." But of course she went anyway.

Yesterday her partner reported "a few days ago we were advised to leave the city urgently and we were told: 'If they (the Syrian Army) find you they will kill you'. I then left the city with [Marie] but then she wanted to go back when she saw that the major offensive had not yet taken place."

Her last dispatch: "I watched a little baby die today - absolutely horrific, just a two-year-old been hit, they stripped it and found the shrapnel had gone into the left chest. The doctor just said 'I can’t do anything.' His little tummy just kept heaving until he died. That is happening over and over and over.

"No one here can understand how the international community can let this happen, particularly when we have an example of Srebrenica - shelling of a city, lots of investigations by the United Nations after that massacre, lots of vows to never let it happen again."

The situation in Homs is "absolutely sickening . . .There’s just shells, rockets and tank fire pouring into civilian areas of this city, and it’s just unrelenting."

"The scale of human tragedy in the city is immense. The inhabitants are living in terror. Almost every family seems to have suffered the death or injury of a loved one."

Goodbye Marie. You were always one of bravest people I've ever known, and you won't be forgotten either by the people who knew and loved you or by the millions you helped by exposing their suffering. And that's a pretty good legacy to leave behind.

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I read the news story earlier as well and was saddened.

Bill's story makes even clearer what a deeply special person she was, and the loss to us ALL it truly is...Goodbye Marie.

Thanks for that Bill and most sincere condolences.










~ If you choke a Smurf, what color does it turn? ~

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Very touching, Bill. My condolences to you and her other friends and family.

It seems like she died doing what she loved, and helping to make a positive impact on the world through shedding light on the darkest of human experiences. She's truly an inspiration.

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Y'know.
She spent her life telling the story of others in hopes that people will learn and understand.
Thanks for telling HER story to people who would otherwise not know the person behind the bravery.

Sorry for your loss.
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You know, we honor soldiers, and very rightly so, for what they do. In the future, I'll strive to remember these type of journalists, who take just as much risk sometimes, so that the truth of injustice and cruelty will find the outside world. My thanks to them all, and my condolences too.


JM

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