People often ask me what was my favorite story to cover when I was a reporter. I always stumble at that question. There were so many of them — literally, thousands of stories. There was the one about the runaway camel and the hapless sheriff’s deputy sent to catch it. And the one about the one-legged man who hiked the Appalachian Trail.

In my seven years in front of the camera, I covered countless police stand-offs and court cases, witnessed dozens of perp walks, and sat through more city council meetings than I care to remember. But what I loved most, as I look back, were the stories about people who never sent press releases. They were folks I met on the street who almost never understood why I would want to follow them around with a camera. Most would indulge me, but they couldn’t see — until they watched the finished story — what was newsworthy about their lives. I guess sometimes it takes someone on the outside, someone with a little perspective, to connect the dots for us. We can all trace in our own lives what storytellers call a narrative arc. It’s just a matter of getting far enough away to perceive its outline.

I came to see my feature stories as gifts to the uncelebrated who, for the most part, had spent their lives in obscurity. Which brings me to my favorite story. I’ve given this a lot of thought. It’s perhaps not the most exciting, or technically spectacular, but it challenges me. It makes me want to live outside of myself. To look for ways to serve other people. And if by some chance my viewers back in 2007 felt the same way when it aired, then it might have been the most important story I ever reported as well.

I hope you enjoy Mailman Jack.