About the Story: This was a day-of-air story. It focuses on a scheduled event-the induction of little Steven Brown into the U.S. Army. It's the fulfillment of Steven's dream to be like his idol and neighbor, Sergeant Miranda. The story itself is full of emotion. Steven has only a short time to live. But it's the kind of story that could easily have been spoiled by a lesser writer.

Behind the Story: This was a desk-generated story. But at WCVB, when a tale like this one crossed the assignment desk, everyone knew who should go: Ron Gollobin. News Director Candy Altman calls Gollobin a wordsmith, a precise writer. He came from a newspaper background. For 24 years, he covered tough stories at WCVB-organized crime, tragedies. He was the reporter most likely to be sent to a veteran's memorial service or a police funeral. The words he chose helped people feel a story's power, not just learn its facts. Gollobin says, "You've got to reach in and grab the humanity of the story." That's what he does here, showing us a sick little boy in a camouflage T-shirt promising to "do his duty, the best he can." Before the officers leave, they stand facing his home and salute their fellow soldier. The last picture we see is Steven, returning the salute. Candy Altman remembers watching the story as it aired that night. "I'm sitting in my office, tears steaming down my face," she says. She looked out into the newsroom. The tough Boston journalists in her shop were watching it, too. "Everyone was standing still and crying," says the news director.

Beyond the Story:

• The station values strong writing. Gollobin finds details that have impact. He tell us Steven "has never taken a bite of food." He shows us an IV bag of medicine and nutrients, adding, "It costs two thousand dollars a day." He tells us Steven sees heaven as a place where he can eat his "Grammy's tomato salad." Gollobin employs active voice in his writing. Subject-verb-object. "Steven knows the score." His sentences are short and efficient. Each one links to the next thought. He never overwrites; never loads the story with hyperbolic adjectives like "horrible" or "heartbreaking." He tells. He doesn't sell. Ron Gollobin retired from WCVB in 1999. Altman says it is fortunate that WCVB has a tradition of hiring good writers, so there are others in her shop to uphold Gollobin's standards. But she fears there are fewer and fewer strong writers in broadcast journalism today. "I don't think the industry puts a premium on good writing. 'Walk and talk' is more important," she says. Not at WCVB.
  
  
• Every word and every picture in this story work together. Gollobin speaks of sisters, and we see them. He draws our attention to the screen, saying, "This is Steven's IV bag…" We never have to try to figure out what we are seeing, or why. The soundbites are spare and subjective. A father tells of frustration, a soldier speaks of affection. These two quotes offer feelings, not just facts. They are the only interview bites Gollobin uses in the piece--along with the natural sound of Steven taking his oath to serve. They enrich the story and allow us to feel the sweet sadness of the day. He also explains why we do not hear from Steven's mother: "She's camera shy."Every word and every picture in this story work together. Gollobin speaks of sisters, and we see them. He draws our attention to the screen, saying, "This is Steven's IV bag…" We never have to try to figure out what we are seeing, or why. The soundbites are spare and subjective. A father tells of frustration, a soldier speaks of affection. These two quotes offer feelings, not just facts. They are the only interview bites Gollobin uses in the piece--along with the natural sound of Steven taking his oath to serve. They enrich the story and allow us to feel the sweet sadness of the day. He also explains why we do not hear from Steven's mother: "She's camera shy."
  
  Delivery establishes authority. We may not know Ron Gollobin, but we feel we do. Through his calm, thoughtful delivery, he seems like a no-nonsense reporter. And when he quotes a little boy saying, "Don't be scared, Daddy. Don't be sad," those words take on even greater power. When he recounts with almost mechanical efficiency that the family "planned a trip to Disney World in February. The doctor said 'better go sooner.' They went in November," you can't escape the message that time is running out. When Gollobin's businesslike voice makes a poetic reference to a "great winter's darkness on its way," we listen with our hearts. And when he closes with "Soldier on, little private," those hearts are full.