Original subtitles

Michael: I was in my office at work

and I got a call from an international number.

Through the last three years,

when it was an international call, I'd answer it.

It was a reporter in Dublin

who wanted a reaction to the story.

I said, "Reaction for what?"

They were really caught back by that question, obviously.

And they said, "I'll call you back in five minutes."

And so then I went online and saw the picture.

It's not the way you want to find out.

I never, ever imagined

that it would end in that fashion, right?

For days that first week,

I just would constantly see that image and...

It's been tough.

You go through those emotional swings.

"Why the hell did you go back that second time?"

But I keep coming back to the same answer.

Host: Name the sports newspaper

that hit US newsstands in 1990.

- ( buzzer sounds ) - James?

- "The National." - It was.

Man: Ladies and gentlemen,

please help me welcome Mr. James Foley.

( applause )

Thanks for that generous--

- overly generous... - ( laughter )

...introduction.

I'm definitely not a hero

or noble or anything.

I'm just trying to do my woror

and got into a little bit of trouble.

( men chanting )

I arrived in Benghazi in mid-March,

and the night I arrived,

I heard nothing but bombs and gunfire.

( men whooping )

I wondered, "What's going on?"

Another journalist said, "The bombs, that's gelatina.

That's how they fish."

( laughter )

Blow the fish up.

"And the gunfire?

No, that's celebratory gunfire."

( gunfire )

Jim: If Gaddafi comes to Benghazi,

are you guys prepared to fight?

Diane: I think in some ways

Libya was a turning point for Jim.

I was starting to see

his trying to figure out

where he belonged in the world.

He tried the Teach for America,

and then Chicago he worked at the Cook County Jail.

He anguished over his teaching.

He didn't think he was a good enough teacher.

He wanted to write and he loved people

and liked to interact,

tell people's stories.

So when Jim decided he wanted to go

into journalism from teaching,

at first we thought that would be good.

"Maybe that'll be a better fit, Jim."

But when he decided to do conflict journalism,

that was a whole different deal.

Well, he didn't exactly tell us.

( laughs )

He graduated from Medill

and we said, "Jim, what are you going to do?"

And he said, "Well, I'm working on it."

The next thing we knew, he was going to go to Iraq

embedded with the Indiana National Guard.

"Well, I guess I'm a conflict journalist at this point."

So that's how we found out.

( gunfire )

Jim: It's an all-out sprint,

an exhilarating and dangerous run for cover.

You got him?

John Jr.: When Jim started the journalism path,

we did have some heated discussions on views

and the military and whatnot.

My views are a little bit more conservative than Jim's.

I would say a little bit more liberal.

But when he did his embed,

I think, is where we came closer together.

Jim: As soon as the shooting died down,

the platoon discovered a body limp on the roof.

Do they know who the guy is?

Yes.

His family members.

- These are the family? - Yeah.

John, Jr.: Then he came back to my house and he told me--

he was like, "John, I'm thinking about going to Libya."

I'm like, "Jim, that's a horrible idea.

That is absolutely a horrible idea.

If you go over there, no one's coming for you.

Why would you put your life in danger?

We're dropping bombs over there.

And God forbid if you go over there

and we accidentally kill you."

I mean, why?

Why?

( chanting )

Jim: Libya was very exciting as a journalist

because you had this chance to talk directly to people,

to see exactly what was going on.

( chanting )

There were no US soldiers anymore.

No organized army anymore telling you

what you should and shouldn't do.

( gunshots )

But it was also extremely dangerous.

- ( shouting ) - ( gunfire )

I was actually talking to one of my buddies

boasting about my brother Jim

and how he's this journalist

and is super crazy, but badass at the same time.

I was like, "Yeah, my brother's a badass.

He's crazy. He's awesome."

I also was very naive myself.

I didn't know exactly what that would mean.

I didn't know he was actually

going to be immersed in actual crossfire.

- ( gunfire ) - There's snipers in this building

about one kilometer away.

The group decided to go in.

Heavy fighting.

Heavy casualties. About 30 wounded,

two dead as of this morning.

Tom: There's one video

that always stands out to me.

It's when he's standing in the square.

There does seem to be a strong sense

that they won't give up the fight.

And that they are a force of young fighting men.

Although unorganized,

there's plenty of will to hold out here.

How does my guy know this stuff?

How does Jim Foley--

he's just my meathead friend, you know?

It was so foreign to me in terms of an experience.

I'm like, "How do you get into Libya?

You're a freelancer? Who wants this?

Are you getting paid?"

This is Jim Foley reporting from downtown Benghazi,

Revolutionary Square, "Global Post."

Phil: Jim was there at the early stage

of this movement of there being

more freelancers in conflict areas.

The world has changed so much

in terms of digital publishing

and newspapers started to eliminate things

that they didn't see as essential.

International coverage dwindled down to very little,

so we saw an opportunity to fill that void

and we needed to work with freelancers.

Clare: Freelancers decide to work together

just on the basis of this initial quick-read chemistry.

I saw this new guy who I hadn't met before.

He looked friendly enough, so I said, "Hey, what's up?"

He said, "Not much. Going to the frontline."

He's heard a lot about Libya

and the fact that it was very cheap to work.

Rebels and protestors were eager to show us their side of the story.

They were driving us all over for free.

They were translating for us for free.

Many of us never really experienced the luxury

of journalism in its heyday.

What we do is journalism on a shoestring budget.

So we've had to be a lot more resourceful in a way

and just more street savvy.

I think, in a sense, the way we all got to know each other

was the Africa Hotel in Benghazi.

It was the cheapest hotel, and the crappiest,

and we were all staying there.

I'd seen Jim talking to a few other journalists,

and he was just really friendly with everybody.

It was unusual in a place like that.

There's still an edge of competitiveness in that environment,

whereas Jim was just like, "Yeah, whatever."

He gave off a really good first impression,

and it helps that he's a super good-looking guy.

I was just like, "Who is this guy? Who are you?"

There wasn't anything mundane about the man whatsoever.

He never really projected himself onto a situation

and he dealt well with people.

Jim: Who are the Libyan rebels

determined to overthrow 42 years of dictatorship?

- Offshore welder. - Platform, yes.

Okay. Dangerous job.

( laughs )

Jim: They're brave as individuals,

but many show a dangerous lack of weapons training.

Clare: There were so many freelancers

who came in at that point in time

who were so new, Jim and I among them,

and I found out only later that there were a number

of much more experienced photojournalists

who had made one or two trips to the frontline

and said, "Fuck it. This is way too dangerous."

( Manu speaking )

Jim had a high tolerance for danger.

- ( explosion ) - Jim: Shit.

Sure, he was drawn to that. All of us are, in a way.

He was cool as a cucumber as well,

wearing this little tiny vest he used to wear.

Clare: The fact that he stayed so calm

made it easy to feel calm in that situation.

But, of course, sometimes I was just like,

"That's crazy. I'm not going there with you."

Jim: I would come back to Benghazi

and there was stuff going on there.

There was families

and they were out there in the protests,

and they were out there maybe handling medical supplies,

which is probably more important

to what this revolutionary movement was.

But then being called out to that frontline again

like some kind of siren song...

It was one of those mornings where we decided

we were gonna get out there early.

We wanted to get a fresh look at the frontlines.

It was myself, Clare Gillis,

Manu Brabo, and Anton Hammerl,

a South African photojournalist.

- Meet my friend! - Anton.

Anton!

Jim: And what it was, really, was just a highway,

a coastal highway going all across Libya.

And this is where the battle was going on.

So it was kind of like a Mad Max type war.

This was something common that some reporters did.

Freelancers like myself who didn't have big budgets,

we'd jump in with the rebels.

It was at your own risk if you wanted to go further or not.

We got to the point where we saw another group of rebels

saying Gaddafi forces are 300 meters away.

And myself, looking at Clare,

like, "That's impossible."

I remember Anton turning to me

and saying, "Hey, this isn't safe."

But we didn't turn around.

We said, "Let's get off the road anyways."

That was the exact wrong thing to do.

Two heavily armed Gaddafi pickup trucks

came over that rise firing.

I remember so clearly

the sound of it, the volume of it,

the sound of something heating metal.

And I remember hoping against hope

that there would be some kind of out out of this,

there was some kind of trapdoor in time.

I crawled back to the sand dune.

Anton was at the other sand dune in front of me.

I heard him call for help.

It appeared he was cut across the midsection with AK fire,

and there was a serious amount of blood.

He had already lost consciousness

and probably already died.

A group of young soldiers approached me

and we were thrown in the back of a truck.

I remember getting photographed with a cell phone

and thinking this is where they find all these photographs

that are evidence of war crimes someday,

and realizing this is me now.

Diane: I was with my mother.

We were out to lunch and I received a phone call.

And that's how we first heard, you know?

I think I was in denial about how dangerous

this really was, Brian.

I was furious,

just furious.

Scared for him, furious.

I hate to revisit it, but it was like,

"I told you, Jim."

I think we all went through the stages of total shock

and then just, "What are we going to do?"

And then anger.

After all, we're family, you know?

Jim: You're so humbled.

You lost everything--

your freedom, your control,

your ability to talk to anybody

and tell anybody you're okay.

Thinking one minute, "Oh, yeah,

I'm a foreign correspondent."

The next minute, somebody who you respect killed

and you have nothing.

Clare: Jim was concerned

that his own competitiveness

with Manu, with Anton, with himself,

his own sort of macho aggressiveness

had driven him to make decisions

that were not the best decisions.

We were all questioning our judgment.

One of the main things that affected all of us

is that Anton had kids and none of us do.

Jim: Every day I have to deal with the fact

that Anton is not going to ever see his three kids anymore,

and I was part of that decision-making process...

that took him away--

that took him away from his kids and his wife.

( Manu speaking )

Jim: I had a lot of time to play over those moments,

especially that one day when we were captured.

I tried to question myself. "What are you reporting on?

What is this all about?"

It was quickly apparent

that this was about being what you think

is an authentic conflict correspondent,

seeing the frontline, and it not being enough

to just see it from a distance,

but to push it to the next level.

You were basically waiting to get shelled,

and the question is, "Why?"

You know, "Why are you doing this?"

Michael: A lot of us were just scratching our head, right?

There's no money. Maybe you get a story

here and there that you sell.

I used to loan him money.

My credit report has one ding on it,

and it's the one loan that I cosigned with Jim.

I think Jimmy was just a little outside the lines.

He was wicked disorganized.

Mark: We had to tell him to come to dinner.

If dinner was at 5:00, we'd tell him it was at 3:00.

so he'd show up at 5:00.

He always lives in the moment.

I don't know if Mike ever told you

that Jim was late to his wedding.

"John, can I sleep at your house?

John, can my friend stay at your house?"

"Yes, Jim, yes."

Even though you were like, "Jim, just wake up!

Wake up! What are you doing?

Get a real job.

Start saving up for retirement."

I remember I said, "Why don't you come to Chicago?

My dad runs this boot camp

that's teaching young felons."

He goes there for the interview and I call him afterwards

and I'm like, "How'd the interview go?"

He's like, "It was great. I think it went great."

I call my dad and he goes,

"He said it went great, did he?

Because I just talked to the lady at the hiring board,

and when she went out there, she found Jim sleeping

with his head back on the wall

and he's wearing jeans with paint or something all over them."

I call Jim back. I'm like, "Jim,

what the hell happened at the interview?"

He's like, "It was hot in there, Tom.

It was hot. I just put my head back and I nodded off."

I'm like, "Did you have jeans on with paint?"

And he's like, "Yeah, they had these symbols on them.

What was I supposed to wear?" I'm like, "Jim, it's an interview.

It's an interview. You can't do this."

So my dad always says that Jim had a million-dollar resume

and a 10-cent interview.

He came and he started teaching reading and writing,

some literature, and he was really good with these kids,

because Jim was into hip-hop and rap

and he liked to grab a mic himself.

Jim connected with these guys.

He'd find out about their backgrounds, talk to them.

I think that really hit him.

He was seeing young guys

that came from terrible neighborhoods

that never really had a chance.

I think he started seeing

there are people who need their stories told.

Jim: The prison that we were transferred to

was filled with all these political prisoners from all walks of life.

Some were fishermen, some were engineers.

It was the warmth of these Libyans that said,

"Here you're our guest. Take this bed.

You don't have a cigarette? Here's a cigarette."

"You want an extra piece of chicken? Here."

These guys understand that I'm a journalist

and I'm trying to get the truth,

and perhaps wrongly they think I'm on their side,

but I certainly feel like it now.

( chanting over P.A. )

You know that if you are kind of without hope,

you're totally humbled,

you tend to go to your faith if you have faith.

Praying five times a day-- it was the life.

It was their only source of life in prison.

I was up nights talking to them.

Eventually, one of them said, "Why don't you pray with us?"

And I said, "No, I'll pray to Isa.

I pray to Jesus when you guys are praying."

He sort of looked at me like, "Okay."

I guess I'm an experiential person,

so I started praying with them.

Little did I know, I just proclaimed my conversion to Islam.

( laughter )

So from then on out, I prayed with them five times a day.

And it was just-- it was so powerful,

and it was something that I needed to do.

But it was difficult.

I was thinking, "Jesus, am I praying to Allah?

Am I violating my belief in you?"

I don't have an answer to that.

I just know that I was authentically praying with them

and I was authentically also praying to Jesus.

Michael: Jim and I were very close in age,

look enough alike that I used his ID in college,

but that's about it.

We couldn't be more different.

Jim was really different from most of us, right?

I mean, to do what he went on to do,

it's not a normal path.

When Jim was taken in Libya,

I just went into overdrive at that point.

It's a nightmare. Each day it becomes harder

with the lack of information.

We know he's in Tripoli.

We believe he's in a detention center.

We really don't know much more beyond that.

We organized this huge group of Jimmy's friends.

We called them FOJs-- friends of Jim.

We had a lot of outside help,

but Michael was sort of the CEO of the group.

His statement was there are no measurables

other than getting Jim home.

Our biggest fear is that it becomes yesterday's story

and people forget about it.

We love Jim and we miss him.

We want him home.

Brian: Tell me about the release.

What was that day like for you guys?

Reporter: After successful diplomatic negotiations,

two American journalists and a Spanish journalist are finally going home

after being kidnapped and detained

by the Libyan government forces for 44 days.

- What is your name? - Manu Brabo.

- Were you okay? Were you looked after? - I'm fine.

If you didn't catch it the first time around,

get it from your buddy.

Guys, could you please give them some space?

Michael: What was really interesting about that whole process,

there was a day where we were making some progress

and I just decided that I have to go.

I have to get on a plane and go.

I don't know. I can't describe it.

But I knew-- at least felt strongly--

that it was going to work out.

All the security guys wanted to debrief him first,

and finally I said, "Enough of this shit"

and just went into the hotel room.

I remember seeing Jim, he had a full beard,

and he just grabbed me and said, "Mike."

We both kind of just grabbed each other's arms,

like, just to-- is it real?

I ordered pizza

and as many Heinekens as they could put in a car

and about two packs of cigarettes

because I knew that's all they had over there.

I looked at them and I said, "I guess I got this one,"

and we just stayed up all night.

Katie: All the family and friends,

we're all together waiting for them.

And all of a sudden we see

these blue lights just rushing at us.

( sirens blaring )

We're like, "Oh, my God, this is Jim.

This is-- he's actually here."

I don't know, it was like a movie.

He was so happy to see everybody.

Jim: You have a close call.

That's pure luck that you didn't get killed there.

It's not worth seeing your mother or father bawling

and worrying about your grandmother dying

because you're in prison.

It's not worth these things.

And outside, in my parents' home

in a comfortable house in New Hampshire,

I sort of had to start processing.

I was horrified to learn

how much my friends and family had done to help me.

I was inspired and I was horrified.

It was a weird feeling of, like, going to your own funeral.

There's no going back from something like this.

Some of the things I'll never be able to change,

but I wish-- I wish that I could.

- This is-- - What are you gonna do?

This is Jim's blazer from when he spoke at Marquette,

this brown one.

Bunch of stuff to go through.

Yeah, so Jim lived with us for, what, three months?

Summer after he was released from Libya.

Summer until-- yeah, up until he went back.

Used to have all his clothes in here.

You can still see his CamelBak from the field.

- Sleeping bags. - All his sleeping bags.

Yeah.

That was his bed right there.

He'd always crash out there.

So it was cool having Jim here,

especially after him having been gone in Libya,

because I think when he came back,

you just wanted to touch him a lot.

Because, I don't know, for me it was like, poke,

and just make sure he's real.

It was almost--

you're just more appreciative of him,

especially with the kids getting to have him here

because he was always on the go.

They loved their Uncle Jim.

They'd come downstairs at the crack of dawn and wake him up.

It was good as much as it--

I think he had an itch he couldn't scratch

when he was domesticated.

Phil: When Jim came back from Libya,

I offered him a full-time job here as an editor,

while he sorted out what he would do next.

He sat right outside my office.

He was grateful to have the job,

but working in an office

was clearly not what he liked the most.

He was quiet.

I don't want to say he was withdrawn,

but he was quiet.

Katie: And I just remember Brad--

my fianc�-- and Jim were in the basement,

and Brad doesn't even remember a time

where Jim was sleeping.

After the family had kind of settled down,

Jim just went right to business, right to work.

Diane: We had found him a very good psychologist to talk to,

but he seemed so well, if you will,

that we didn't push it.

But he was so restless here at home.

He didn't want to be here at home.

Jim: Feeling like you survived something,

it has a strange sort of force

that you are drawn back to.

I think that's the absolute reality.

Zac: Everything else becomes foreign.

It was strange coming back to the real world.

It was weird. It was normal in there.

Clare: Yeah, if I go to Wal-Mart and I'm looking at

literally an entire aisle full of Tupperware,

it boggles my mind.

There's a deep absurdity

to understanding the peace

that we're lucky enough to have in this country

and the questions that it raises

about how do we make our money,

what is the basis of our peace,

of our economic viability,

of the fact that I can look at all of this Tupperware

and someone else somewhere else

is looking at the ruins of their home.

Zac: You start missing all the bombs

and the fighting and everything.

I just used to love sitting up at night

and just listening.

( gunfire )

It's really kind of sick.

- ( explosions ) - But it also--

it feels super fortunate for being there.

You think, like, out of 25 million people in your country,

you're the only person who's got to experience that.

Like, fuck, man, how fortunate am I?

You're witnessing history unfolding

and you're getting this perspective

that is so unique.

( Manu speaking )

I believe that frontline journalism is important.

Without these photos and videos

and firsthand experience,

we can't really tell the world

how bad it might be.

( singing in Arabic )

( explosion )

Woman: James Foley joins us now live

from inside northern Syria

with more on what he saw.

Tell us more about what you were able to witness.

Yes, thank you.

You've heard about indiscriminate shelling,

but to see those bodies left over

from a direct mortar hit was really shocking.

These were civilians,

and they are under pretty continuous shelling.

( chanting )

Thank you.

It seemed like he started thinking about going to Syria,

and by the time he mentioned it,

it was like he'd already kind of made up his mind.

And he said he was going with John Cantlie,

who's another colleague-- a British photojournalist

that we'd all met in Libya the year before.

- Man: What's your name? - Jim.

- John. Jim and John. - Man: John, Jim.

Johnny, you say I love you. You say.

Diane: I don't know.

I really didn't

really get into it with Jim.

I think I made it too easy for him.

I mean, it was something he wanted to do,

and so we were trying to be supportive

about his decision to do that, you know?

You just want to punch him in the face.

You know, in a loving, brotherly way.

But you're like, "Come on, Jim! Come on!"

Tom: The last conversation I ever had with Jim, I said to him,

"Jim, man, why do you keep going back into Syria?

I mean, what's it like?"

And he's like, "It's crazy, it's crazy."

I'm like "Well, is it more dangerous than Libya?"

He's like, "Yeah, it's more dangerous than Libya!"

I'm like, "You got captured in Libya!"

You couldn't talk him out of it.

( chanting )

Jim: You know, the thing is, is there's physical courage, right?

For some reason, I have physical courage.

But really, think about it,

that's nothing compared to moral courage.

I can go and get those shots,

but if I don't have the moral courage

to challenge authority, to write about things

that are going to maybe have reprisals on my career--

if I don't have moral courage, we don't have journalism.

Jim chose one story in particular about this hospital,

the Dar Al Shifa Hospital in Aleppo.

It was actually Jim's idea to spend a week in that hospital

documenting what the doctors and the staff there

were doing on a daily basis.

Yes.

- Whew! - ( man shouts )

( chanting )

Nicole: From what he and I witnessed,

they were literally shuttling people with drips

and bandages and everything

in these tiny little taxis and cars.

And Jim was the one who came up with the idea

of raising money to get an ambulance for the hospital.

And he was in touch with everybody,

and there was an ambulance

that was a secondhand ambulance

that was coming from Austria,

and Jim and I actually made one trip in

and we saw the ambulance sitting outside the hospital.

And that moment of joy on his face was priceless.

He was just like, "It made it. It's awesome."

Clare: I would say the flip side of his willingness

to get out there and do things

is that like, okay, so you get an ambulance into Syria.

Some militia is going to commandeer it

and use it for their own purposes.

They're going to put an anti-aircraft in the back of it,

like, go blow shit up.

Jim was not focused on that kind of issue.

He would think about what's the best-case scenario,

not how things could go wrong.

Nicole: It becomes very personal

because we have to live amongst the local population,

and it's such this brutal, endless conflict

that you just--

you feel so kind of alone

in the sense that you can't do anything about it.

You can't do anything for these people--

for the people you've made friends with

and for the people who took you in

and shared their food with you

and wanted you to play with their children.

We'd become the intimate chroniclers of this conflict.

We don't have bureaus to go back to.

You're there, and every moment of it

you share with the locals.

And I think there was just this enormous guilt that rode on Jim's back

that made him feel so compelled

to do much more than just record video and file it.

There were times where he was offering up video for free

and I would chastise him for it. I'd be like, "What are you doing?"

He was like, "Nah, whatever. It's fine. It's all good.

I just want to make sure the video gets out there."

Diane: Jim's the kind of guy who never needed much.

Some of the lifestyle of a conflict journalist is tough,

but that didn't bother Jim.

The only possessions I think Jim cared about

were books and CDs.

I mean his camera, ultimately.

He'd come home without a toothbrush.

Just use whatever toothbrush was available.

Jim could fall asleep anywhere.

All he needed was just a little space on the floor.

He was like a cat.

Brian: This is a good one.

( Manu speaking )

Diane: Over time, you know,

he slowly got rid of his apartment,

sold his car.

He just ended up really owning nothing.

So, what would he want for Christmas?

This last time before going to Syria,

he wanted a tough pair of pants.

He really did have less and less

and it didn't bother him at all

because he seemed richer and richer.

Nicole: There was one day in August

when a Syrian activist was taking us around this neighborhood

called Bustan al-Qasr

and this fighter jet just started circling above

and just swooped right down and hit a building

that was a couple hundred feet from us.

- ( gunfire ) - ( explosions )

We started seeing civilians coming out

and just clutching nothing, really.

Just ashen faces.

There was rubble everywhere.

It was chaos.

( shouting )

And the plane came around again.

It dropped another bomb really close by,

and, actually, we were right across the building,

and we looked up and we could see

the rubble start coming down.

That bomb had hit a family of seven.

( speaking Arabic )

Jim: Who was killed?

Who?

Nicole: It was horrific in the scale of it,

but also just-- I think nothing prepares you

for seeing kids being killed and maimed in that way,

and I know that Jim really loves kids.

So, you know, we were both just--

we didn't say anything until we got to the field hospital

where they were bringing the bodies.

And we were both just in this mode

of just needing to get the pictures out.

I think when we were finished that night, though,

we kind of sat down and lit a cigarette

and we just started talking about it.

Really, there wasn't very much to say, though.

You know, like, what is there to talk about

when you witness something like that?

So we just sort of sat in silence.

Zac: Nothing prepares you for that.

No amount of courses. Nothing.

You just go there and you'll either handle it or you don't,

and that's cool.

Either you run or you stay.

And there's-- not one is better than the other,

but just don't delude yourself.

Some people aren't meant for that.

Clare: The shine was starting to come off in a way.

There was a period of time

where journalists were welcomed with open arms

because they'd seen what had happened in Libya.

And when that didn't come about after a year,

after a year and a half, after two years,

it's just like, "Okay, what are you guys doing?"

I had a doctor tell me at the hospital

that Jim helped raise money for an ambulance--

he was like, "Look, you guys are in and out of here since one year,

and it's the same exact thing except it's worse.

I don't want to talk to you."

If the populace on the ground

whose side you're documenting

is getting more uneasy with you

or less willing to help--

you're very dependent on the goodwill

of the people you're around.

( Manu speaking )

It's just that moment of, like, how well can you know anybody?

Even, say you know someone very well,

two years of war, three years of war,

that's going to change anybody.

They warned journalists.

They were like, "Al-Qaeda is coming."

Maybe even worse than al-Qaeda is coming

and nobody is going to help us against the Assad regime

except for these guys.

So it was all there.

Clare: One of the main things I noticed

the last time when he came out,

he looked really hollow

and he was quite-- quite silent.

He had that amazing room-brightening smile

even if he had seen terrible things, as one does.

It was disheartening to see.

Mark: Before he left for Syria, I think we made it a point,

we were going to bring him down to the Faneuil Hall district

and go to the comedy club down there.

The comedians were horrible,

but I was in the mood to laugh,

so I'm just laughing at anything.

And I just remember looking at Jim

and he was just dead-faced.

And then me and Jim went outside for a cigarette

like we always do.

He said he had to go.

We had a long hug.

I remember I hugged him a really long time.

Just hugged him really tight.

I said be careful.

Obviously, I didn't feel like that was the last time

I was going to see him, but it was a good night.

It was a good end of the night, you know?

John, Sr.: I guess if I had any regrets, Brian,

I regret that I found it difficult to communicate with Jim.

I don't know if it's the male thing or whatever it is,

but I just wish I was able to share more

of who I was with Jim again

and get him to share who he was with me,

which might have been just as difficult, you know?

Diane: He would interview us when we came home

and he did a great job interviewing us,

because you felt like talking because he was listening.

He wanted to know how we were.

And that was-- when he came home,

that's what he wanted to know.

He wanted, "Well, how are you? How you doing?"

"How's Grandma? How's Katie and Mark?"

And he just wanted to know how everyone was doing.

So in that way, Jim was kind of solitary.

Kristie: He was home, end of October,

right before he went back to Syria that last time,

and he was going--

I remember he was leaving here

and he was going to New York to get a helmet

from somebody, which was good.

We were like, "Getting safety equipment. We like this."

Yeah, I remember we left and we dropped him off at a train station.

And he-- we were going to see him in December.

- He was supposed to come home kind of-- - You have a good memory.

He was supposed to come home mid-December.

And we were like, "Be safe. See you soon."

And unfortunately, that didn't--

Yeah.

- Sorry. - It's okay.

Nicole: We'd spent the beginning of November in Aleppo again

with Jim, John Cantlie, and Mustafa, our translator,

who's become a friend of ours.

I had had some issues with my camera that week.

So, I was like, "Jim, I got to go back to Istanbul.

I'll see you guys in a week."

The moment when I said bye to Jim,

I had this feeling of reluctance to leave.

I think in a way maybe it did upset the balance

that he and I had shared for so long.

There are superstitions when you're in a war zone.

There's like this one thing that he and I shared,

which was our lucky lighter.

It's very common in the Middle East.

It's like the evil eye to ward off evil spirits.

We'd used it for everything,

and for some reason it never ran out of lighter fluid.

It's just this stupid idea.

You put your hopes into one object to make it feel safe.

I think about it a lot afterwards,

that he didn't have it with him.

Maybe if I just gave him the lucky lighter,

everything might have turned out okay.

I don't know.

That day, I was in Reyhanli,

which is the border town,

and I would have seen him at about 5:00.

So I checked in and I told Jim,

I'm like, "Hey, I'm here,

so text me when you get in."

5:00 rolls by, and I started to worry.

7:00, 8:00 rolls around,

and I'm like, "Something is really wrong."

So I called Mustafa,

and the first thing he said to me was,

"Nicole, I'm so sorry.

I didn't-- I couldn't do anything."

I was like, "What are you talking about? What happened?"

He was like, "We were coming. We were in the taxi.

We were coming to Turkey to meet you,

and this van with these four guys with guns,

they stopped us on the road

and they told us to get out.

And they were pointing their guns at us and screaming."

The gunman made Mustafa tie up their hands,

and they put John and Jim into the back of their van.

So, I hung up and I just started crying.

I was like--

I didn't know if I was gonna see Jim again,

and that was the first thought that came to my head.

John, Sr.: It was almost surreal.

This is a bad dream. It's not really happening.

It's not happening. This can't be--

this can't happen again.

We can't do this again.

Yeah, it was--

I dove in just like before.

I felt like, "Okay, it's going to be 45 to 100 days of hell,

and then we'll have him back."

In a matter of a week, you could tell it was very different.

A lot of misinformation, as opposed to last time in Libya--

after a week went by we knew where he was, who to deal with,

so we just concentrated on routes to get to one person.

Here was a mystery right out of a crime show or something

where you're trying to piece together bits of information.

Nicole: For the next three weeks,

there was just dead ends and false information

and rumors and people being scared of talking

because they had a suspicion of who maybe was responsible

and they didn't want to get entangled in it.

Diane: Phil Balboni offered to stand up

a security team to try to find Jim.

So, all these people were trying so hard

to get in place, but it was a very,

very chaotic, confusing time.

John, Jr.: You're on eggshells. You're just waiting to hear.

It's exhausting, and I know Jim felt guilty for that,

and I'm not trying to make him feel more guilty,

but it's just a toll

that's taken by the families.

Brian: What were the hurdles getting the White House

and FBI involved?

Michael: It was very tough to get action.

And I understand that the world is a big place,

and so I actually felt guilty sometimes

trying not to ask too much of them.

Jim made this decision,

but just give it your best attention

and we'll trust you.

That's kind of where it started, the relationship.

Then I met the first agent that came over

and it was just a kid out of school,

and his first question to me was had I asked the regime for assistance.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Have I called the regime and asked them for assistance?

No, I hadn't thought of that. Thank you.

Thank you very much for that tip.

They told us-- they advised us to be quiet,

because hopefully they could find him

and get him out and such.

So we didn't say anything.

We went through Christmas and all that

not telling anyone but our closest family that Jim was missing.

Tom: In some ways it was better

because I didn't have to explain it.

Because at times it could feel accusatory,

like, "Well, he was in Syria."

That's not fair.

You don't do that with police or firemen

or something like that who do dangerous jobs.

You don't say, "Well, you were in a fire.

What did you think would happen?"

My friend doesn't need to explain why he's a journalist.

Diane: Come the new year, I couldn't stand it.

I was frantic.

So we chose to go public.

John, Sr.: I appeal to the people who have Jim

to give us some information in terms of his welfare, his health.

Diane: It breaks my heart

that the persons who have captured him

don't understand his goodness.

My personal feeling is that silence helps two people.

One is the government--

it doesn't push them to do more sooner--

and the captors.

It allows them to do whatever they want.

It's difficult now

with all the talk about the Islamic State.

They've become so famous or infamous.

But the Islamic State, ISIS, ISIL,

was on nobody's radar at the time.

With a very high degree of confidence,

we now believe that Jim was abducted

by a pro-government militia group

and was subsequently turned over

to Syrian government forces.

This is the first time

we've really heard anything like this,

so we are very hopeful, like John says.

Well, it turned out we were dead wrong about that.

Michael: All the information up front was just a bunch of BS.

No one knew what the heck they were talking about

because we had no access.

That whole year, I don't care what anyone says,

all the efforts, all the leads, all this and that...

we were in the wrong area of the country, you know?

Syria is about the size of New England, maybe?

A little smaller. So here you go, Brian.

Go into New England. Find Jim.

I think the moment that I learned that he had been kidnapped,

I was just like, this is going to be a really long process.

But I'm going to do anything

that I can in my power to get him home.

Because I can't stand the thought of him

being in a cell somewhere cold and hungry.

And I can't sit here

and not try to look for him.

Daniel: My name is Daniel,

and I'm a Danish photojournalist.

I started as a gymnast,

and while I spent all my time in gyms

all around the world doing gymnastics,

I got bored when I didn't do anything else

and I started to take pictures.

I only planned to be inside Syria for two days.

I had one day of work

when I walked around this small quiet town.

It was spring,

so the weather started to be very better,

and people seemed happy and relaxed

and we were told to go and speak

to some guys in the area.

Very calmly, we're sitting on sofas.

They were offering tea.

Everything was calm and quiet,

even though I knew that something was strange,

something was wrong.

And then they asked me to stand up

and they took off my glasses,

and they just-- "Don't worry, this is just a procedure."

That was how everything began.

So, you know, a quiet Sunday

beautiful spring morning became a nightmare for me.

The longer you are a hostage,

the easier it becomes in some way,

the better you get at it.

And I had, like, I think, one,

one and half months by myself.

After, I believe, two and a half months,

I was put together with two other Westerners.

And then we were put together four.

I think we were five together,

and then seven together.

And then came another one-- eight.

Then it just started to evolve.

We were in that cell--

British, Americans,

French, Italian, German,

Danish, Russian, Spanish.

We were 19 at one stage.

One day we had to sit faces to the wall,

but I could see under my arms.

I could see some mattresses were moved in,

and there came some guys in traditional Syrian clothes.

And then they closed the door again, the big metal door,

and I looked up, and there was James and John Cantlie.

Everybody was like, "Yay! Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!"

It's two new friends.

( Pierre speaking )

I created this picture in my head

of this big war journalist,

and so I could only get disappointed in a way.

But I remember him being like...

"What's happening?"

So that was basically the first time I met him.

But it was real different

to be put together with James and John,

1054 00:58:55,8