Reporter Oren Dorell explored the world and made it better
I discovered how courageous and passionate Oren Dorell was during his job interview to be a reporter at USA TODAY in 2004. He had submitted story samples from being a police reporter at The News & Observer in Raleigh, N.C., and I was taken with one about what it felt like to be shocked by a Taser.
I asked him, how did it feel? “The most painful thing I ever did,” he replied. Why subject yourself to such pain? “How else can I describe to readers how it felt?” he said.
That was Oren: intrepid on assignment, passionate about his work and determined to serve readers at great personal risk. That was why we hired him and why I loved being his editor, colleague and friend.
He was so full of life, love and adventure in everything he did as a journalist, husband, father and friend that I cannot believe he is gone. Oren, 53, died Friday night after a car struck the motorcycle he was riding in Washington, D.C. The driver of the car faces charges of second-degree murder, driving under the influence and leaving the scene.
Oren adored his wife, Ginny, and their two preteen sons, Malcolm and Leo. As someone who frequently broke bread with him, I witnessed how much he relished eating exotic food. As his longtime editor, I can attest how much he thrived on difficult assignments.
For Oren, the world was a series of intriguing mysteries he wanted to unravel and shed light on for his readers. Danger was just a routine job hazard, whether covering the aftermath of a hurricane, the fighting in eastern Ukraine and Iraq, or a political uprising in Egypt.
On one assignment about a hurricane, he used a boat to get closer to a flood-stricken area and almost became a victim when the boat swamped. He shrugged it off, apologizing for getting his work equipment waterlogged.
When he was covering a conflict between Ukrainian national troops and Russian-backed separatists, one day I received a phone call from him and could hear rocket fire in the background.
“Where are you?” I shouted. “Pinned down inside the airport, where the two sides are firing,” he explained. “I told you not to go close to live fighting,” I yelled. “The rebels said there is no fighting between 1 and 3 p.m., so I went then,” he said sheepishly. “I guess they didn’t observe the truce this time.”
Fortunately, Oren avoided personal injury. And he captured a jewel of a story. An elderly woman and her cat had become trapped in her tiny apartment. After his moving story was published, local residents helped relocate her and her cat to a safer apartment, and readers donated money. Oren went to great lengths to ensure that every penny went to aid the woman and her cat.
I was never more proud of him as a journalist, and he was never happier to have made a difference for the better in someone’s life. Oren’s tragic death is an unspeakable loss to his family and friends. It also is a huge loss to journalism and the enlightenment of readers.