All language subtitles for HBO.Documentaries.Jim-The.James.Foley.Story.HDTV.x264-BATV[ettv]

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,