Il y a un an, le jeune photographe de guerre français Rémi Ochlik était tué en Syrie lors du bombardement de l'immeuble qu'il occupait avec d'autres journalistes dans le quartier rebelle de Baba Amr. 
A 28 ans, il avait couvert la guerre en République démocratique du Congo en 2008, l’épidémie de choléra à Haïti en 2010, les révoltes tunisienne, égyptienne et libyenne de 2011. 
Ses photos pour ne pas oublier : http://www.ochlik.com/

Anthony Shadid, Remi Ochlik, Marie Colvin: influential reporters who died covering Syria.

I knew of all the deaths the moment they broke news (due to CNN), but the significance didn’t hit me until I read the latest Times and saw the Milestones page honoring the three. Reading a brief summary of their lives inspired me; the dangers they put themselves in to cover the uprising gave me faith. Everyday could have been their last (in fact, Ochlik had just arrived in Syria the day before), yet they pushed ahead to try to spread knowledge of what was happening 7000 miles away.

And then another revelation hit me. It took the deaths of three people dying while doing what they loved for me to finally put things into perspective. In Syria everyday, hundreds are dying for what they believe in– just because they are not foreign or acclaimed doesn’t mean we shouldn’t celebrate their lives or mourn their deaths any less.

Perhaps it seems trivial that I only realized this now, but for me it wasn’t just new understanding. Now I comprehend. It’s one thing to superficially mourn, but another to recognize the sacrifices. These people are strong, these people are brave, and these people are striving forward with a passion I can only hope to one day discover.