...point eight pan transit 848.
See you next time.
Have a happy holidays, 848.
Middleborough approach, pan transit 848 descending
through one-two thousand.
Pt 848, middleborough approach,
radio contact sixty Miles north of the airport.
Reduce speed to two-one-zero knots.
You're cleared at one-zero thousand,
squawk six-three-seven-one.
Pt 848 copy. Cleared to one-zero thousand.
Maintain two-one-zero, squawking six-three-zero-one.
Morning, Jim. Hey, Peyton,
how's the column goin'?
Have you been reading it?
Occasionally.
And?
And your picture looks great.
Middleborough approach, pt 848.
Uh, we're experiencing a little electrical problem.
848, are you declaring an emergency?
Not at this time, middleborough.
We'd just like to expedite our landing.
He liked my picture.
My writing sucks, but he liked my picture.
Morning, chief.
Don't call me chief.
This is not the daily planet.
And don't ever ask anyone
what they think of your column.
I don't have a column.
Yeah, well,
I'm beginning to wish I didn't either.
Oh, speaking of which,
Nora wants to see you and I quote,
"the second she drags her butt in here."
Perfect. She probably wants to comment
on my picture too.
What?
What have you got on your face?
Oh! It's part of the look.
Just so you know,
most people pay to have stuff like that removed.
Middleborough approach, pt 848,
we got a generator issue here; We're losing altitude.
848, say again.
I say again, we're losing power to avionics.
We're gonna declare an emergency at this time.
Standby 848.
Kb air, one-one-four, middleborough-
fire control, we have an emergency
on final approach, runway 2-1 right.
Macgruder.
How goes the struggle "to uplift and inform"?
Impressive, Kingston.
You are probably the only one at "the times"
who not only knows what it says on our masthead,
but actually quotes it.
This paper's my life, Peyton.
I thought you knew that.
Hey, hey, hey. What's your hurry?
Why don't you pull up a step, chat for a minute?
I can't. I've been called to the principal's office.
What're you doing out here anyway?
Smokin' a cigar.
A cigar?
It's virtual.
What?
I would if I could.
Pt 848, middleborough.
We've got you at 20 Miles straight in.
Descend to five thousand.
We seem to be getting fumes in the cockpit;
could be an electrical fire.
848, you're cleared to land on runway two-one right.
Winds are variable, three knots.
Altimeter two-niner-niner one.
Got your message.
Good. Sit down.
Sounded kind of urgent.
Well, results are in from the last readers' survey
and the corporate bean counters
have made some recommendations.
Such as?
Such as dumping your column.
They can't do that.
Please, of course they can. Look at these numbers.
Out of our four regular features,
your column ranks the lowest.
How many emails do you get a week?
Dozens.
When Emma Duncan wrote the column
she got a thousand.
In the ten months since she died
and you took over "the heart healer",
your readership has steadily declined.
My column is filled
with good, practical information.
Which is fine for the style section.
During your time there, your writing was excellent.
But when you asked for your own column
and this became available,
I told you you'd have to do more,
you'd have to give it your all.
I am!
You're not!
You're not giving it that part of you it needs
to attract a following.
"The heart healer" has no heart.
You're not touching your readers.
Pt 848, middleborough,
we have you at six Miles on final.
Do you have visual contact?
Maintain stable flight level-
pt 848, say again.
Everybody in life jackets now!
- We've got fire on-board. - I repeat...
Emergency equipment is deployed and standing by.
We have you at four Miles. Maintain descent.
Pan transit 848, middleborough.
Pt 848, middleborough, acknowledge.
Pt 848, middleborough, acknowledge!
Christmas is in three weeks.
If you can't hook your readers during the holidays
you never will.
Excuse me, Nora.
A pan transit jet just crashed off the coast.
Oh my God.
Improve these numbers by Christmas...
Or you're out.
Pan transit flight 848, flying towards jfk,
experienced a catastrophic electrical failure
and crashed into the ocean,
just off middleborough, north Carolina...
You okay?
A pan transit spokesman reported one hundred and-
the airline just released the passenger list;
I knew a couple of people on that flight.
Oh God, king, I'm sorry.
Tom Harold and his wife.
He was the pitching coach at state
when I played for him about a hundred years ago.
And I thought I was having a bad day.
Hmm...
You want to grab a coffee,
have that chat now?
Chat, yes.
Coffee...
No.
He was the best damn coach and teacher I ever had.
And here you go. Oh, thank you.
Cool wife, too.
Adrienne.
She insisted that he take her
to no less than two Broadway shows
every year.
That's probably why they were in New York.
I guess you never know.
I wonder...
Hmm?
If they did know.
What?
Your friends, the other people on the plane -
I wonder if they knew they were gonna die?
Oh jeez, macgruder, morbid much?
I'm sorry.
I just can't stop thinking about it.
You know? I mean, was it sudden?
Did they all die instantly?
Or did they have some time...
To say goodbye, to say "I love you",
hold each other and know it was the last time?
Sounds like a "heart healer" column to me.
You know something,
we work on the same floor for four years,
we finally go out and have a real conversation
and you make fun of me. Nice.
Who's making fun?
I'm just saying there's likely to be
some serious mail coming your way.
I hope not.
Ugh! I couldn't handle that responsibility.
Which is why I probably
should never have asked for this column
in the first place.
Does this have anything to do with...
You having had a bad day?
Nora is giving me until Christmas
to improve my readership or...
Ooh, that's harsh.
Still...
Nothing like a plane crash
to lend a little perspective to your problems.
Now, there's little or no hope of finding any alive
of the 137 passengers on-board the flight
which originated in New York.
Officials say it could take up to weeks,
perhaps a month, before any final list
or picture emerges of what exactly happened
in the final moments of flight 848.
Lord of the universe, lord of the sea and sky,
send us your guidance and grace in this moment of great loss.
Comfort our families and friends
and strengthen our faith in spite of our fears.
Comfort and support one another
with the assurance that our loved ones
are, indeed, in peace with you
now that they know all of the great secrets of the universe.
Amen.
Amen. Amen.
Get the ocean in the background.
Keep me in the shot as I walk down the hill, all right?
'Kay, I'm gonna go talk to these people,
to see who's a family member.
Excuse me, sir, I was wondering if you could talk to me about,
about what you're feeling...
I know this is a very, very tough time for you.
I would just like you to give our viewers a sense
of what it must be like...
I'm sorry.
I don't want to intrude on you-
excuse me.
Are you a friend or a family member?
No, uh... I'm a reporter.
I mean, I write a column for the middleborough times-
yes, I'm sorry to interrupt.
Look, I can only imagine
how you must be feeling right now
and I know the last thing you need
is a reporter asking you personal questions,
but I was wondering if you could share...
Reverend, perhaps you'd care to comment on...
How does he do it?
I mean, how do these network guys
find the chutzpah to shove a microphone in someone's face
and ask how it feels to...
Lose a child or a father?
How does a guy like Truman Harris sleep at night?
Comfortably wrapped in the arms of any woman he wants.
The dude is a total stallion.
You're not helping.
Sorry.
Okay, let's review.
You've gotten letters about the crash,
but you think it's too ghoulish to interview the relatives.
Correct.
So, why not write about how you, the "heart healer",
feel about loss?
That doesn't work for me.
Why not?
It just doesn't.
Talk about your perfect opportunity-
I said no!
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you.
You know what?
I think I'll work on this at my place.
Maybe a single serving can-o-soup
can inspire a little passion.
Macgruder!
I can't talk.
I gotta find a bridge to jump off.
So the column's going well then?
I am totally screwed.
I'm a dry well.
I have no idea what to do.
Just do your job, Peyton,
which means just like me and every other columnist,
you may have to pry open some doors
you'd rather leave closed.
Is that how you earned the prize?
I earned my pulitzer the old fashioned way.
Hard work.
Dumb luck.
...pt 848. The f.A.A. Announced early this morning
that the cause of the accident
is most likely due to an electrical fire
on-board the aircraft.
The pilot apparently reported trouble
minutes before the fateful crash
that brought the airplane down.
Speculation has it
that the pilot intentionally diverted the plane
away from populated areas,
a strong indication that he knew-
so they did know.
They did have time.
Come here... Look at you.
What would I have said
if I only had time for one last thought?
Torming)
Peyton macgruder?
I'm sorry, ma'am, we have some bad news.
I'm afraid your husband's been in an accident.
Uh, yes, in middleborough for Kingston danville.
Thanks.
It's Peyton macgruder.
I'm uh... did I wake you?
I'm sorry.
Uh, look, I have something I have to talk to you about.
Why don't you come over in the morning,
I'll cook you breakfast.
Nice job on the Christmas decorations.
What Christmas decorations?
My point exactly.
Well, who's gonna appreciate it?
My cat?
Wow, macgruder,
this is how you do over easy?
I'd hate to see well done.
Woo!
Here. Kills the carbon taste.
Well, you are a regular domestic diva,
aren't you?
Sorry, I'm a little bit out of practice,
but, hey, the price is right.
And the waitress is cute.
Mmm.
Okay.
So what do you think?
Okay.
There was a huge explosion
and a fire.
Could a plastic baggie and a piece of paper
survive all of that?
I don't know. I'm asking you.
I suppose anything is possible.
This piece of life vest washed up right next to it.
So if I can get the f.A.A. To confirm
that this came from flight 848,
I think it is reasonable to assume that this did too.
Well, they've been finding stuff
all up and down the shore so...
Yeah, I mean, it's reasonable.
Right, so what do I do?
What do you want to do?
Read it.
What's this stuff inside the baggie?
Cookie crumbs.
Hmm.
It's addressed to "t".
Who's "t"?
I don't know, but I want to find out.
I want to find out who wrote it
and give it to the person that it was meant for.
And write about it in your column.
Exactly!
You know, I could probably get this thing fingerprinted
or go online or...
But no column.
Correct.
I want to solve the mystery of this note myself
and bring my readers along for the ride,
and hopefully fix my problems with Nora.
So what do you think?
I think you may have struck gold here.
Really? Yeah.
Except one thing.
What?
Do you really think that a guy
sitting on an airliner,
hurtling helplessly towards earth,
is gonna have the composure to write a note?
I've thought about that.
The pilot notified ground control
that there was a problem in the cockpit,
a full three minutes before the explosion.
Three minutes, king.
Yeah. Okay.
Okay, so in those three minutes
people knew they were in trouble.
I mean, they must have known
or at least had the fear that they could die.
What would you do?
Well, eat the cookies for sure,
but write a note?
I don't know.
It's signed "dad". If you had a kid,
wouldn't you want him or her to know
what was on your mind in those last terrible minutes?
I do have a kid.
You do?
He's a boy, 19.
He's away at college.
So, you actually found a woman who could put up with you, huh?
Oh, not quite.
She dumped me for a state farm agent
six years ago.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to poke fun.
It's okay.
I'm way past it now.
Unfortunately, David, my... my son,
he pretty much only heard her side of the story,
so he blames me for the divorce.
He thinks it was my fault.
Was it?
I don't know, maybe,
being on the road as much as I was.
Anyway, he is pissed at me.
Basically, we have zero relationship.
So...
In your last couple of minutes on this planet...?
Yeah...
I guess writing him a note might've crossed my mind.
Hey, how about another cup
of this less than desirable coffee
and then I will get outta your hair.
You have a column to write.
- Ng her column)-
i found myself inexplicably drawn to the shore today,
to a place where, a few days before,
I'd seen several family members
gathered to mourn the loss of loved ones on flight 848.
While there, i chanced upon a treasure.
It was not one of jewels or gold,
but a simple handwritten note.
Its words speak of a love as wide as the sea
in which it was discovered.
This treasure rose up amid the debris of flight 848
and was signed only "dad".
If the message was written
in the final few moments of that flight,
then it is the last communication
from that doomed plane
to those of us still living.
Because fate entrusted me with this note,
i feel that I should do everything in my power
to unite that father on flight 848
with his child.
I have to do all I can
to deliver the last message to a grieving soul.
Is this for real?
It's for real.
Here you go. Thanks.
A note just falls from the airplane
and contains a message for somebody?
That's right.
Well, what'd it say?
I can't tell you that.
What? Why?
I'm saving it
until I find the person it was meant for.
How are you gonna find 'em?
I'm not gonna find them,
we're gonna find them, together.
Whoa! A lot of email today.
I'm not surprised; It's a phenomenal story.
A man writes a note, minutes before his death,
and prays it'll find its way home?
That's way cool.
Yeah, way cool -
if we can track down the owner.
Grab a chair, let's get to work.
By the way,
this is top secret, okay?
Oh, absolutely. Eyes only, chief.
Sorry.
All right, now,
the note was addressed to someone
whose initial is "t".
"T".
Okay, what else?
That's it. There is no "else".
That's it?
So we've just got to find out who "t" is?
"T" is the son or daughter of a man on that flight.
We're gonna have to go through
all of the obituaries,
out of town newspapers - all of them -
find the names of the surviving children
and then narrow it down
to those whose names begin with "t".
Macgruder.
Peyton, I need to see you immediately.
Okay, I'll be right up.
Gotta go put out a fire.
I'm counting on you.
What's all this about a note?
What do you think you're doing?
Exactly what you told me to do.
I'm injecting more heart into my column,
and I'm increasing my readership.
There were more than 200 e-mails for me
in my box this morning.
200?
Yeah, yeah. They're still coming in too.
Well, what if it turns out to be a hoax?
It won't. The f.A.A. Just confirmed
that the piece of inflatable life vest
that I found with the note
is definitely from flight 848.
So I'm as sure as anyone can be.
It's the real deal.
And if you can't find the person?
I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
Well, I'm not convinced...
What is it?
Oh.
All right, put him on.
Mr. pargrave, how are you?
I just read Peyton macgruder's column,
this business about a note that fell out of the plane.
Yes, sir.
She's in my office right now. We're just discussing that.
How certain is she of her facts?
Well, she says she is very certain.
All right, let's run with it.
This is good stuff.
It's pulling something inspiring out of tragedy.
People love that.
Yes, I suppose they do.
All right, let's get her an expense account,
let her travel if she has to, within reason.
Let's see what she can make out of this little mystery.
Fine, I'll do that.
You look like you just won the lottery
but you lost your ticket.
What's goin' on?
You first.
What're you really doing out here?
Oh...
I used to come down here when I could smoke a stogie.
I discovered there were no phones,
no interruptions...
Unless, of course, there's a fire.
Or you find yourself in need of a therapy session.
So, what's your problem?
It didn't really hit me until I left Nora's office.
What hit you?
I'm gonna have to interview people,
grieving people,
people who've just lost a father on that flight.
Yeah. Sure, I mean... Can't get around that.
But the thought of doing it makes me...
Sick to my stomach.
Well, maybe it's hard for you because...
You once were on the receiving end
of the same kind of questions.
Wait a minute.
How did you know about my husband's accident?
Hmm...
Well, I, I googled you.
When?
When I saw you get off the elevator.
This morning?
Four years ago; Your first day on the job.
King!
Have you been crushin' on me?
Maybe. So what?
Oh God.
So, so I'm... I'm flattered.
Yeah.
I am, really.
Well, that's, that's nice,
but we have not solved your problem yet, have we?
No, we haven't.
And under the circumstances,
I mean us just having been necking here
in the stairwell and all...
Necking?
Well, that's how I plan to remember it in my memoirs.
Anyway, I...
I feel it's appropriate for me
to offer up some advice from my deep, deep well
of journalistic experience.
I'm all ears.
Look...
You can either say to yourself,
"I'm intruding into the lives of these poor grieving people."
Or?
Or...
You can say to yourself,
"I'm giving these poor grieving people
the opportunity...
To talk to someone."
'Cause in the end, what we all really need
is someone willing to listen.
Okay, we're finished with the "k's"
and we're starting with the "l's".
And I'm starting to worry.
Why?
Well, at first, I was afraid there'd be too many, you know,
like dozens and dozens,
but here it's the second day and not a single one.
We haven't even gone through half the list yet.
"T" is out there, I know he is.
Caffeine confidence.
What is that, like your sixth triple Grande espresso
since lunch?
Seventh, but who's counting?
Besides you, I mean.
Oh my God.
I've got a live one.
Let me see! Let me see!
Uh, in morehead city...
Peyton macgruder's desk.
Yes.
Sh-she is. Hold on one second, please.
You are never gonna believe who this is!
Peyton macgruder.
Ms. macgruder, Truman Harris.
Yes, Mr. Harris, what can I do for you?
Well, first, you can call me tru.
All right, tru.
What's up?
- I like your note story. - It's a great premise.
How would you like to take it national?
What do you mean national?
I'm leaving in a few hours for New York
to do my show,
but maybe we can meet before I go?
I could bring a crew,
get you talking about the note on tape,
cut the footage into a tease.
We could air it on tonight's show
if we work fast.
Mmm, I don't know, Truman.
I don't think I'd be interested.
Well, think of the exposure.
With TV coverage, you can find your missing person in no time.
Thanks.
But I plan to do the story as a continuing feature
for my readers.
Television isn't what I had in mind.
Sorry.
Well...
I guess I'll just have to put on my thinking cap
and come up with a way to persuade you.
I wouldn't waste my time.
That's something I never do.
That was Truman Harris!
I know.
So spill. What did he want?
A story, our story.
And you said no?!
Yeah, I said no.
Come on, let's get back to our guy in morehead city.
Um... all right, uh, Winston lavery,
survived by a daughter and a son,
reverend Timothy - with a "t" - lavery of St. Louis.
Are you crazy?
You said no to Truman Harris, the hottest thing on TV?!
Before you completely melt down,
will you please get me a plane ticket to St. Louis.
There's a man there
to whom I hope to deliver a very special Christmas gift.
Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas, everybody!
Dear readers:
I'll have no way of knowing for whom the note was written
until I've talked to each prospect.
I'm waiting for the right person to identify
the shadows of concern in this note
and recognize them as a familiar love.
What would you say to a loved one
if you only had a few seconds to impart a last message?
What language does love speak?
That's what I'm hoping to find on this leg of my journey.
Peyton macgruder's desk.
It's Truman Harris calling.
Is Peyton available?
Oh, Mr. Harris.
I- no, I'm sorry she's not.
Aw, that's too bad. Who's this?
Me? I'm Mandi hillridge.
Hey, Mandi.
Are you a reporter too?
No, just an intern.
No, no such thing as just an intern.
I bet you Peyton would have a rough time
writing that column without you.
Uh, listen, Mandi, has Peyton left for St. Louis?
Oh yes, Mr. Harris, she just...
Hey, hey, call me tru, huh?
She just called, tru.
Her appointment was postponed until tomorrow.
Well, that's great.
It means I have time to meet her.
We're collaborating on this note story.
I don't know if you know that?
No, but that's wonderful. I told her that she should.
You two will make a terrific team.
You know what? I think so too.
Listen, I'm sure she'll call,
but in case we cross connections,
could you remind me when and where
is that appointment again?
Oh, um...
It's tomorrow at 11:00
at the holy fortress baptist church.
Uh huh.
Thank you, Mandi, I look forward to meeting you.
Okay, bye.
- Here you go. - Thanks.
Very pretty.
The Sunday-schoolers make 'em out of recycled cans;
the congregation buys them to raise money for the poor.
It never ceases to amaze me
how these people who have so little themselves
give so freely to those who have even less.
Ms. macgruder, I assume?
Yes. Reverend lavery.
Oh, most folks just call me brother Tim
or Tim, if you like. Have a seat.
Thank you.
Uh...
First, let me just say that I'm very sorry for your loss.
Thank you.
Um...
My mom died when I was a kid
and my dad died about three years ago,
so I know how hard it can be.
I know where my pop is and that makes me very happy.
Well, I don't know what your uh...
Religious affiliation is, Peyton,
or if you even have one,
but that's what I believe
and it gives me great comfort.
And that makes this visit so much easier for me.
You told me on the phone
that you might have something for me.
I subscribe to your paper on the Internet
to read your column.
I assume that you brought the uh...
The note that you found.
Yes, I have a photocopy for you to look at.
Hmm...
Well...
Someone will be incredibly happy to receive this.
Someone?
It's not mine, Peyton.
I hope that doesn't disappointed you,
but there's no way my pop wrote this.
You're certain?
He would never address me as "t".
I was always Timothy to him.
And he would never sign anything as dad.
He was pop, not just to me,
but to everyone he knew.
Well, would you mind then if I asked
just a couple more questions for my column?
Sure.
Okay.
Uh...
Can you tell me what your relationship
with your father was like?
Oh, mmm.
Uh, well, you have to understand this.
My uh... my father built this church.
He started out preaching on street corners
and in alleys,
slowly gathering his flock,
some of whom still come here every Sunday.
I grew up in this church.
I found my faith here. I married my wife here.
I christened my little girl here.
And uh...
When he decided to retire last year,
I took his place here.
That must have made him very proud.
Yes.
A few months ago,
the bishop offered me a new posting:
Up town, big church, big congregation,
big potential.
What did your father think of that?
Well, that's why he came out here.
He told me to go for it,
'cause that's what he thought i wanted to hear.
But it wasn't.
If I take that job, this'll be my last Christmas
in this church.
Hmm.
Didn't God once use a star to help guide people
who were searching for a new beginning?
Yes, he did.
Maybe what you told me about these precious little stars
can help guide you.
I do love this scrappy little congregation.
And this church is uh...
Ingrained in my soul.
I want to thank you, Peyton.
For what?
For the visit and the...
For this.
I don't understand. I thought you said that-
no, he didn't write it,
but this note helped me to think about
my last conversation with pop
and about what I know he felt in his heart,
regardless of what he said;
about what's important;
and how I want to spend the time
that I have been given on this earth.
And for that...
I'm very grateful.
Here they come.
Get in close!
Reverend lavery, I'd like to ask you
about the note.
Was it written by your father?
I didn't know anything about this.
I'm sorry.
Um, it's okay. Uh, and who are you?
Truman Harris,
national television broadcasting.
My viewers are interested in the note
purportedly written by a passenger
on pt flight 848.
I was wondering if you could shed any light
on that subject?
I could, but I think I'm gonna leave that to Ms. macgruder.
No comment.
Let's back up for a wide shot.
Okay, pull back. Get a whole shot of the church.
Oh, your star.
Um, keep it.
Is this more than just a column for you?
I don't know what you mean.
Well, maybe that note was meant to be your star,
to guide you to whatever it is you're looking for.
Hmm?
Well, folks, you heard the man.
I guess we're gonna have to wait
for Peyton macgruder's next column
to find out whether the note was meant
for reverend Timothy lavery or not.
Reporting from st. Louis, I'm Truman Harris
with national television broadcasting.
All right, that's it. Let's wrap it up and go home.
What are you doing?
Earning a living, just like you.
And how did you know to come here?
It's a confidential source. I'm sorry.
This is my story.
It's a free country, macgruder.
I can report on anything I want
as long as it's accurate.
Well, without the note, you've really got nothin'.
No.
I've got you, Peyton, and your heartwarming quest.
Now, the only thing that would make that better
is if we work together.
Come on, come on.
We become a team
we can milk this for a Christmas special.
Don't hold your breath.
Hmm...
I don't think holding my breath
is gonna be necessary.
Oh...
Yeah!
Oh, nice greeting.
Turn on the TV.
Why?
You'll see. I'm on my way with Chinese.
Truman Harris,
national television broadcasting.
My viewers are interested in a note
purportedly written by a passenger on pt flight 848.
Could you shed any light on that subject?
I could, but I think I'd like to leave that to Ms. macgruder.
No comment.
Despite reverend Timothy lavery's
reluctance to answer our question,
we have learned from a reliable source
that Tim lavery is not the man to whom the note was written.
We'll continue to follow this unfolding story
on tomorrow's show.
Until then, I'm Truman Harris,
and this is national television broadcasting.
You stole my story.
Grab some chopsticks, why don't ya?
Lemon chicken'll help dull the pain.
I don't want to dull the pain.
I want it to fester
so the next time I see Harris
I'll feel good about running him over with my car.
How come I've never seen this sensitive streak in you before?
Oh, because nothing like this has ever happened to me before.
Sit! Eat! Come on.
Before you completely snap your wrapper.
So what exactly happened in St. Louis?
Nothing that Harris hasn't already reported.
What he reported was lavery isn't your man.
I mean, that's a good thing, isn't it?
I mean, 'cause if number one's your guy
then your series is over.
Now you get to bring up batter number two
and you keep the inning alive.
Yeah, if I can stay ahead of that rat Harris.
Mmm... You'll find a way.
Oh. Curtis pargrave...
Came down to the newsroom today.
How come?
To say that your column was hitting a nerve.
Pargrave said that?
Mmm hmm.
We're selling out every issue you're in.
The online subscriptions are way up.
People all over the country
are reading you on the net.
Wow.
Well, your enthusiasm is underwhelming.
Sorry.
What?
On the plane today, it occurred to me...
You know, there was some turbulence
and I thought what if...
What if this plane were going down,
who would I write to?
Jeez, you are so macabre.
What I realized is there isn't anyone.
Macgruder...
There isn't. There isn't a single soul
that I would have to say goodbye to.
We could change that.
Anyway...
Look, I'm worried about you.
Just be careful you don't let your story
make you another victim of this plane crash.
King?
Hmm?
Thanks.
For the free psych session?
For the kung pao.
Dear reader:
I have just returned from a typical mid-American city,
its snow-covered halls
well-decked with Christmas cheer.
Its children sledding or skating
or poking carrot noses and coal eyes
into snowmen faces.
The journey took me not to a house
but to a church,
to meet my first prospect to receive the note I found -
a man of God, as it turns out,
as was his father before him.
I showed the pastor a copy of the note
and it took only a moment for him to conclude,
as has been reported on TV,
that it had not been written by his pop.
He had good reasons and I am convinced
that the note had not been intended for him.
Nonetheless, I believe the note had a profound effect.
It offered the reverend an unexpected opportunity,
a second chance if you will,
to reconsider a recent and life-changing decision.
The note and the plane crash
served as a reminder to him
and to all of us,
that life is fragile
and we must live each day as though it might be our last.
I am so sorry.
Mea culpa, mea culpa, please forgive me.
I...
You have apologized 25 times.
I've forgiven you 25 times.
And what is so important in Nashville
that they need to keep me on hold forever?
And besides,
the only true thing about tru Harris
is that he is a dishonest dirtbag
and you and I are gonna steer clear of him, right?
Right.
Good.
Sorry to keep you on hold. Ms. quist is not available.
Did you tell her it was about her father?
Uh huh, I did.
And she's still not available?
That's correct.
Would you like to leave a number
where she can reach you?
I did that three calls ago.
Look, just tell her that I called again,
remind her that it's important
and ask her please to call me back.
I'll be sure to do that.
Oh my God.
What?
Have you seen all these emails?
Nearly 2,000.
Amazing.
Uh, Peyton?
Do you see what time it is?
Oh, yikes.
I was due upstairs three minutes ago.
Okay, uh, when I'm done up there,
I'm gonna go straight to the airport.
Miss Taylor quist is gonna see me,
like it or not.
Oh, tell 'em I'm on my way!
Peyton macgruder's desk.
Ah, glad you could make it, Ms. macgruder.
I'm sorry.
I had some last minute travel arrangements
to finish up.
I had a call this morning from the c.E.O.
Of kelliston communications in New York.
Of course, you know they're our parent company.
They asked me to include
a friend of yours in this meeting.
Hello, Peyton, it's tru Harris.
Harris, what a surprise.
Let me get right to the point.
My...
Our boss wants to make your story bigger.
Bigger?
Kelliston communications owns "the times".
They also own ntb, which is Truman's network.
Corporate wants us to join forces, Peyton.
His crew would follow you
on your search for the owner of the note.
Once the rightful person is found,
he or she would be revealed
on a one hour Christmas program.
I told you I'd get you a special,
didn't I, Peyton?
So, what do you think?
I think that corporate should go to-
Peyton!
Look, this is a story that either I can tell
or Truman can tell!
Oh, wait a minute, I forgot.
Truman can't tell it
because he doesn't have the note.
And you don't have three million people
reading your pissant column!
I have all the readers I need
and, to me, they're the only ones who count.
And I owe it to them -
we owe it to them
to reveal the owner of the note
in "the heart healer".
And after that, Harris,
you can report on any damn thing you please.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have a plane to catch.
Can't hear you.
The button.
You gotta press the button.
The button behind you.
Press the button.
Oh.
Hello?
I'm sorry to bother you. My name is Peyton macgruder.
How'd you get in here?
Oh, um, there's nobody out front
and I just walked... Oh, okay.
That's not entirely accurate.
The receptionist was there and um...
I told her I was delivering some contracts for you.
Are you like a stalker or something?
No!
God, no!
I called. My names macgruder,
Peyton macgruder with "the middleborough times".
Can I come in there?
Talking between the glass
makes me feel like one of us is in prison.
Door's on the side.
But I'm warning you, I don't give interviews.
Hi.
I liked the song you were playing, by the way.
Oh thanks. Just noodlin' on a new tune.
You're the first to hear it.
Oh.
Well, you and marabelle.
Marabelle?
My cat.
Oh.
You're not allergic are you?
Got one of my own.
Tell me you're married.
I'm not.
Two soon-to-be middle-aged women
living with their cats.
Oh, gee, I hadn't really thought of myself that way,
not until recently anyway.
Sorry. Didn't mean to offend.
So, you're here all the way from north Carolina?
Uh huh.
Well, then it must be important.
Yes.
Um, a few days after the plane crash,
I found a note in a plastic bag.
It had washed ashore with some other debris
from the plane
and it appears that the note was written
by someone on flight 848.
I have a copy for you to look at.
Can I get you some coffee?
No, thanks.
My father didn't write this note.
No?
No.
My father kicked me out of the house
when I was 16-years-old.
He had years to get in touch and he didn't.
Now why would he spend
the last few seconds of this life
writing that note?
I don't know.
Of course you don't. How could you?
How could you know anything about it?
My father gave me to my grandmother
when I was ten.
Why am I telling you this?
No, please.
Go on.
My mom died.
My dad was in his second year of medical school
and I guess he figured that he couldn't raise a kid
and finish his studies at the same time, so...
But after that I rarely saw my father,
except around christmastime.
My nickname for him actually became "Mr. holiday".
"Mr. holiday."
I like that.
I could write a song about it.
I mean...
It's not that my father didn't love me.
I'm sure he did, but...
Oh, where is he now?
Gone.
Died a few years ago.
I spent most of my teens strung out.
My folks finally had all they could take
and kicked me out.
Tough love they called it.
It took me years to get clean
and when I finally did I realized that uh...
It was all my fault.
I thought about callin',
but I decided that I put 'em through enough already.
But maybe I was wrong.
Maybe I should've called a long time ago,
but now, you know...
Might be time to write a note of your own.
What do you mean?
Your mother wasn't on that flight, was she?
No.
No, she wasn't.
What're you doing here?
I figured you'd be too tired to stop by the office,
so I brought you the rest of the obituaries.
That a girl.
So, how was Nashville?
Rewarding.
Meaning we have a winner?
No, Taylor quist is not the person we're looking for,
but I think the note had an effect on her anyway.
It seems to do that to everybody.
It's certainly turned my life upside down.
Which reminds me, Nora called for you.
Am I fired?
She didn't say one way or the other.
Good. So let's hold her off until morning,
'cause I've got a column to write
before this paper goes to bed.
And I need a cup of tea. You want one?
Oh, no, I'm okay.
This is a great place.
My husband and I bought it right after we were married.
Look at the backyard!
It'd be perfect for kids.
Peyton macgruder?
I'm afraid your husband's been in an accident.
Take it easy, man.
Can't you see the woman's pregnant?
Peyton?
Hey, Peyton, are you all right?
Um, yeah, uh...
What have you got for me?
Mmm, just one.
If it's not him, we're out of luck.
Him?
Local guy.
His father was a big time real estate developer.
He owned half the buildings in downtown middleborough.
Nice work.
You're gonna make a hell of a newspaperwoman one day.
Thanks.
Are you sure you don't want a cup of tea?
Can't.
Mandi?
I like your outfit.
Are you kidding me?
This is so not me!
Then why are you wearing it?
Blind date.
Don't want to scare the guy off.
See ya.
Well...
Looks like it's you and me, kiddo.
Middle-aged woman and her cat.
Today, I met with a well-known songwriter,
a woman who has everything -
celebrity, wealth, beauty, talent and intellect.
Yet I had to wonder, is she happy?
The life I observed today
would probably not satisfy most of us average folks.
You see, this woman and her family
had a falling out years ago when she was a teenager.
As adolescents, we are so self-centered,
so focused on our own desires
that we have trouble seeing our parents as real people.
We see only their authority,
their rules, and their expectations;
not their dreams, not their strengths,
and not their human weaknesses.
This woman carries a burden of alienation,
but it's by her own choosing that she shoulders the load.
It has become a shadow she's accustomed to seeing,
and I fear it will walk with her
for the rest of her life.
I bear the burden of my own shadows.
By showing her the note,
i had hoped to offer her the courage
to step into the light,
and in doing so,
i have found myself reflected in her.
Perhaps, as the journey continues,
i will also find the strength to leave the shadows behind.
I say as the journey continues, dear readers,
because the woman was certain
the note was not written to her.
But having read the message,
my sincerest hope
is that it will still move her to open doors
too long left closed.
Hi.
Oh, I was just reading your column.
I'm proud of you, Peyton.
Really?
And not just because your writing's great
or because you've brought up the numbers,
but because you've made the column your own.
So much so
that you were willing to risk getting fired
to protect your readers' interests.
Oh, uh...
Listen, I really hope I didn't leave you
in a bad position the other day
with Mr. pargrave.
Oh, Curtis pargrave's been a print guy for 30 years.
He loved you standing up
to those new media types in New York.
My knees were so wobbly
it was a wonder I could stand up at all.
Keep doing what you're doing.
We'll watch your back as best we can,
but don't let your guard down.
I don't think you've heard the last of Mr. Harris.
So...
Who's next on your list?
Tanner walton.
His father was a local developer.
Yeah, I did a piece on him a while ago.
He was in business with his son,
but I thought his name was Peter.
Maybe a brother?
Anyway, the note was addressed to "t",
so it's got to be Tanner.
And if it's not him?
Then my Christmas column's
gonna be one heck of a disappointment.
Back to the point.
Takes the shot, passes to the other point.
One timer, deflection in front, off the post!
Now out of the zone to centre ice.
You look busy.
Never too busy for beer or broads.
And since I am neither...
Sorry! Hey... sorry.
Too much time in a locker room.
What can I do for you?
Take me for a drive?
This guy's the son of a real estate tycoon?
Mmm, tycoon's a bit of an overstatement.
Either that
or he was cut out of the will.
So...
Did you want to go in or what?
Um, macgruder?
What?
Wow.
What planet were you just on?
I'm sorry.
This note thing is just...
Bringing up a lot of stuff for me.
Is that why you brought me along?
I don't know. I guess so.
What kind of stuff?
Peyton...
What kind of stuff is it bringing up?
I guess I was just...
I feel like I was given the note for a reason.
I feel like it gives everyone it touches
a second chance.
To do what?
She's still alive.
Peyton?
A second chance to do what?
To fix their broken lives.
And what about you?
Me?
This note has obviously touched you.
It's kind of complicated for me.
I don't feel like I deserve a second chance.
Everyone deserves a second chance.
I should go in.
I couldn't agree with you more, Mr. Harris.
It could turn out to be a bit of good luck
for both of us.
I think that's her now, so I'll see you soon.
Mr. walton, I'm Peyton macgruder.
Hi, uh...
Come on in.
Yeah.
This was written by my father.
You're sure?
It's his handwriting.
And the message...
My father and I did not get along for many years.
My father was a wealthy man.
Real estate, right?
Yeah.
And he wanted me and my brother, Peter,
to follow him into the business, but...
I tried, but it- you know, it wasn't my thing.
To be honest, Ms. macgruder,
it bored the hell out of me so I quit,
and my father never got over the disappointment.
He took it as a personal affront.
We couldn't speak without arguing
until it eventually got to the point
where we didn't speak at all.
Well, I guess in the end he changed his mind.
Yeah.
I guess... I guess he did.
That's why this note is so precious to me.
I would never have known how he really felt
if you hadn't found that.
So, thank you.
You have no idea what you've done for me.
So, I guess you're gonna write all about this
in your column.
Yes, I will.
If that's all right with you.
Sure. You can use my name if you like.
Mr. walton, one more question.
Did your father always call you "t"?
No, he... No, he probably...
Didn't have a lot of time
to write the note, I mean,
but he knew I'd understand that it was for me.
Make sure get the...
Go on in, get set up, boys.
I don't suppose I could get a promise
of confidentiality?
How'd you do it?
Well, let's see.
Your column yesterday said you'd gone to meet
with a songwriter.
It was easy to discover that Taylor quist
had lost her father in the plane crash.
Now the only obvious similarity between Taylor
and reverand Timothy lavery -
both their names begin with "t".
And Tanner is the last "t" on the list.
Yeah.
It's cake.
What makes you so sure that he's the right guy?
He said he was, didn't he?
And now what?
Well, publicity is already working on a promo
for a one hour,
live, tomorrow night.
Getting scooped is a pain, isn't it?
I've got a baseball bat back in my office.
I could turn his "stand-ups" into a "sit down"
with one well-placed swing.
They'd just tape it
and turn it into another one hour special.
Tanner walton is definitely the right guy?
He says he is.
But you're not convinced?
Okay.
Let me dig around a little,
see what I can come up with.
She's still alive.
What about the baby?
Will they be able to save the baby?
♪ Deck the halls with boughs of holly ♪
♪ fa LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA ♪
♪ 'tis the season to be jolly
♪ fa LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA ♪
♪ don we now our gay apparel
♪ fa LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA ♪
And there it goes, my last column on the note.
Too bad nobody's gonna read it.
Maybe this'll cheer you up.
Thanks.
I'm sorry how it all turned out.
Yeah, me too.
You know, it's not just getting scooped.
It's...
What?
I don't know.
I guess I had hoped that the note
would lead to something more...
For my readers and for me.
Ms. macgruder?
Yes?
Can I talk to you, about the note?
What about it?
I think that maybe my father wrote it.
Oh, honey, someone has already claimed
that the note was written to them.
I'm really sorry.
Was the note addressed to "t"?
What did you say?
I said was the note addressed to "t"?
Let's talk inside.
Tell me...
Why do you think that your father wrote this note?
He went on a business trip
and before he left, we got into a huge argument.
I felt just terrible about it
and I know that he would too.
What's your name?
I'm Christine,
Christine everby.
If your name is Christine,
why would he address the note to "t"?
That was a nickname.
All my life, I used to tag along after my dad,
so he started calling me um...
Tag-along or tag.
Sometimes just "t".
I know that sounds so silly.
Can you tell me why you argued?
Yeah, it had to do with my adoption.
After my mom died,
I just started thinking about my birth mother and...
Before he left for the airport,
I asked him if he would help me
find my real parents.
He said that he and my mom were my real parents
in every way that mattered and...
I knew that that was true.
I didn't mean to hurt him. I was just...
Curious.
Yeah, curious.
I just wanted...
I just wanted to meet my biological mother,
you know, just once.
Well...
Seems perfectly natural to me.
My dad didn't really see it that way.
Then I guess I got a little mad
and I guess I said some things,
you know,
mean things.
But you know what?
In the end, he gave in to me.
He always did.
He hated to see me unhappy.
He said that when he got back from his trip,
he said he'd help me look for my real parents.
And he left.
And I never got to say that I was sorry
for all the awful things that I said.
You know what kills me?
That look on his face.
I hate it that our life together
ended that way.
This is the Bible that he gave me on my birthday.
He wrote inside it.
Here.
Is it the same printing as was on the note?
It's the same.
It is?
He gave you this on your sixteenth birthday?
Yeah.
So you were born September 2nd, 1989?
Yeah.
Ms. macgruder, are you all right?
Yes, I...
Ms. macgruder, you're trembling.
Can I, can I help you?
No, no.
It's just that...
Ms. macgruder?
Um...
It was in a baggie
with cookie crumbs.
Christmas cookies.
I baked 'em myself.
Thank you.
Imagine what that note came through to get to you
just so that you could know...
How much your father loved you.
Yeah. That's true, isn't it?
Listen...
There's going to be a man on television tonight
who will claim that this note's his.
He's wrong.
We both know that this was meant for you.
Thank you.
Oh...
Christine?
Yeah?
Um...
If I...
Call you just to... To see how you're doing,
you know, check on you,
would that be okay?
Yeah, that would be fine.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
Nora?
You look awful. What's happened?
I'll tell you later.
Scrub the column that I filed.
What?
I'm writing a new one.
Wha...
Hey, Peyton, I thought you left?
I'm back.
Oh good.
That'll save me from leaving you this.
The most amazing thing just happened to me.
I've got to rewrite my column.
How come?
I just met the real owner of the note,
a young girl.
So it's not our boy Tanner?
No, he lied to me. I don't know why.
I'll give you 20 million reasons why.
What do you mean?
I talked to our business editor.
The inside story is Tanner's old man...
Left everything to his brother, Peter.
So he was cut out of the will.
Mmm hmm.
Both boys went to work for the company
right out of college.
Tanner wasn't pulling his weight
so his brother bought him out.
And apparently
Tanner has squandered all the dough
that he was paid for his share,
and Peter worked his tail off to build the company
into what it is today, so...
Okay, but I still don't understand
what Tanner had to gain by lying to me.
"All is forgiven, dad."
It's exactly what he needed.
Tanner's already hired an attorney
to contest his father's will.
And Truman Harris was probably more than happy
to help him out.
What are you gonna do about it?
Well, I'm gonna call Tanner before it's too late.
I'll tell him about the girl I met
and the proof that she showed me
that confirms the note was meant for her.
And then I'm gonna offer him a second chance...
To do the right thing.
Good. Sounds good.
King?
Yeah?
Where is it?
"Lapinsky...
Playing deep right field, wearing his blue uniform,
looked every bit like a great heron
as the tie-breaking run
rocketed from home plate
toward the high fence behind him,
it's trajectory clear.
A guaranteed season-shattering grand slam
until the gangly lapinsky, all arms and legs, rose,
as if carried on the crest of a tidal surge,
higher and higher
in the humid July air,
floating beyond human capacity,
until, with sublime grace,
he snagged the ball and saved the day.
I do not believe in divine intervention
or gods who toy with the lives of men,
but that day I did believe.
That day I witnessed a miracle."
My pulitzer piece.
Where'd you find it?
I googled you.
When?
Four years ago, my first day on the job.
Macgruder.
Have you been crushin' on me?
Is it true what you wrote?
Do you believe in miracles?
Why?
I was pregnant when gil died.
I fell into a deep depression -
total despair -
and I tried to end my own life...
And I nearly lost the baby.
After she was born,
I couldn't care for her and I couldn't care for myself,
so children's services took her.
And then several months later,
my father convinced me
to let them put her up for adoption.
But if I had been normal
I never would have given up baby.
But you weren't, were you...
Normal?
No, not for a long time.
You ever try to find her, your daughter?
No, I never looked for her.
Why?
I didn't have the right.
I tried to take her life when I attempted to take my own.
But now, because of this note,
I believe that she's found me.
You mean the girl who...?
Yes.
Come on.
I know it sounds crazy,
but there's evidence and... in my heart I know.
I know that's my daughter.
Did you tell her
that you think you might be her mother?
No.
I was afraid that the truth about why I gave her up
would be more painful for her
than just not knowing.
I set out to offer somebody else
a Christmas miracle,
but I ended up with my own.
Listen to me...
You have kept the most private,
intimate details of your life
all to yourself, for so many years.
That's gonna change now.
You're not alone, Peyton,
not anymore.
Not anymore.
Tell us if you would, Mr. walton, about your feelings
when you first saw that note.
Well, I thought how great it would be
if it turned out to be written by my father.
And then when you actually opened it
and you saw that message inside, you...?
Uh...
Um...
I know this is difficult for you, so...
I wish I'd given my father a reason to forgive me,
but I hadn't.
The note, uh...
Was not meant for me.
Uh, wait a minute,
did I, uh, hear you right?
Did you just say that the note was not meant for you?
The um...
It turns out that the uh...
The note was not meant for Tanner walton and so...
Dear readers:
I visited and spoke with my third and final prospect.
He claimed the note.
At the time, I had no reason to doubt him.
Since then, I've met a young woman
who persuaded me that the note had been written for her.
She had convincing proof, but I didn't need her evidence
to realize the note had at last come full circle.
Through this journey, my friends,
I've learned something else:
The note itself is not the most important thing,
the message is,
for it contains the power of life and love.
Macgruder.
Do you have any idea how stupid you made me look?
Yes.
Who's the girl?
I promised her anonymity.
What the hell am I suppose to tell my audience?
Tell them what I said in my column.
The note or who wrote it isn't really that important.
It's the message that matters.
That's absurd.
Peyton?
Finally,
i understand why the note was given to me,
not because of what I could do for it,
but because of what it could do for me.
Great story!
Hey.
How the heck do you reply to a text message?
Oh.
Oh!
It's from your son.
Yeah.
That's great. What do you want me to say?
How soon...
Can you get here?
Perfect.
That's great.
How about joining us? I will do the cooking.
Now there's a tough offer to turn down,
but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to...
This time.
Oh.
I am, however, available on new year's Eve.
This search has done something
to my heart,
tearing down old walls.
Through the painful process, i learned something:
That the heart most in need of healing was my own.
Throughout my search
I've shared the anguish of despairing people
and I've finally learned to share my own pain.
Hi.
Come on in.
Oh, wow.
(Cat purrs contentedly
it's so beautiful.
Gosh, I'm sorry.
I should've brought you a gift.
You being here is the best Christmas gift
I've ever had.
And if you don't mind, Christine,
I'd like to tell you why.
Okay.
The note, after all,
was a message of forgiveness,
and to this broken heart
it has not lost its power to restore.