Something good from something bad

I still remember one of the worst mistakes I ever made as a journalist for the STAR newspaper in Cambridge. It happened in the winter of 2001. A home outside Cambridge caught fire because a methamphetamine lab burst in the garage. The homeowner, a J. Siems, faced several meth charges. At the time, meth busts were happening every week and this was a big deal.

Now, I knew a J. Siems. Jason Siems had been my sister’s neighbor a few years earlier.

When I typed the story, instead of writing about James Siems, the homeowner where the meth lab was found, I substituted the name I knew: Jason.

When the story printed it was not a good day in our newspaper office. Jason’s wife called, she yelled, and threatened to sue. I felt terrible. Absolutely terrible. I knew Jason, and he was a nice guy. I didn’t need a potential lawsuit hanging over my head to feel guilty. We printed a correction, of course, in our next edition, but I never shook feeling terrible about what happened.

Fast forward to 2009. Jason Siems has accepted a job working at the main desk at the college where I’m now teaching. I’ve gone through the summer without running into him, but as soon as school starts I need his help. He says, “I know you, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you used to live in the same duplex as my sister,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t remember how else he knows me. He remembers.

“And you used to write for the STAR newspaper, too, right?” He asks. “You wrote that story about my brother and the fire at his place.”

“Yeah, I did,” I say, ducking my head in shame. “How is your brother doing?” I didn’t expect to hear anything good; meth is a hard habit to break and has destroyed many lives.

“He’s fantastic,” Jason replied. “He’s doing great. He’s off the drug. We laugh about what happened now.”

“I still feel terrible about what happened,” I interject.

He continued, “In fact, we speak together to groups about his addiction and how it affects the entire family. You know, if you hadn’t written that story and accidentally used my name, we wouldn’t be able to do that.”

Amazing. Something good, you could even call it wonderful, happened because of a mistake I made. A weight I hadn’t even realized I had been carrying for years fell off my back. I felt a hundred pounds lighter. My mistake enabled two brothers to reconnect and to share their story. Perhaps they had saved another from making the mistakes James had made.

It is true. Something good can come of a mistake.