Pollyanna - she’s my hero.

No, seriously.

You remember the movie. Pollyanna is a pigtailed, orphan who goes to live with her stern Aunt Polly. The little girl’s sunny view of life rubs off on even the dourest person in town and, before long, even her ice princess aunt is helpless against Pollyanna’s unfettered enthusiasm.

Personally, I try to emulate Pollyanna’s robust optimism in my own life. I admire her stubborn determination to see only good in the world.

I guess I’ve enjoyed some success in this endeavor, since some of my friends in past years have said I am over-the-top in the optimism department - “sickeningly positive,” according to one.

I’ve toned down a bit since getting back into journalism. My reporter’s life might even put Pollyanna’s indomitable spirit to the test, but I believe she could pull it off.

In the last three-and-a-half years, I’ve seen plenty of accidents scenes and bodies of people who died in tragic accidents. A girl burned to death in her car. A man lying dead on the freeway after falling asleep and crashing into a rock wall. A little boy who drowned in a creek near his family’s home.

I watched a mother and her teenage son cry as they watched their home destroyed by fire. I cried with the family of a soldier who died in Iraq.

But, other days….oh the other days.

Some days, I absolutely adore my job.

The hot air balloon ride. The talks with political movers and shakers and entertainers and people who have survived brushes with death. I've dipped my toe into dozens of experiences, careers and lifestyles.

One thing I’ve learned is you don’t have to be famous to be fascinating.

My assignment Friday was to write a story about a Pendleton man who died recently – Joe Daley, Sherwood Elementary School principal for 32 years.

I seem to draw this type of assignment quite often – stories about people who have died.

In fact, the very first story I wrote as an East Oregonian reporter was about David Hamley, one of the original owners of Hamley’s, who died the weekend before I started working.

I love this type of story, chronicling the lives of intriguing people.

Take the incredible Mr. Daley, for example.

When I started calling family and friends, just about everybody had a hilarious tale of the principal and his unsinkable attitude about life. He and Pollyanna might have had some scintillating conversations.

I didn’t have room for most of the stories in my article but I listened in rapt attention as his friends shared the hilarious, and sometimes touching details.

Here’s a couple of the stories that didn’t make it into my story.

Daley served in World War II in New Guinea, said his friend Chuck Rosenquist. Along the way, sergeant managed to lose his stripes after pulling a prank and had to earn them back. Evidently, Daley was in charge of a group of buck privates who had to dig a path to the latrine. Daley decided to have some fun.

“He had them take a right angle and go into the woods,” Rosenquist said.

The privates spent the day building a trail to nowhere.

Daley had a softer side, too, Rosenquist said. One time the pair trekked to the coast for an education conference and planned a fishing expedition on the side.

When they arrived at the dock, another of the fishing boat’s customers arrived – with his two sons. The boys weren’t on the list and the boat was full.

“Joe said, ‘Chuck, why don’t you and I just roam around Astoria for the day,'” Rosenquist remembered. “He’d been looking forward to it, but he gave it up immediately – he was a softie.”

Daley’s daughter offered proof that her father wasn’t perfect, though nearly so. One day, she said, a neighbor’s pet skunk got loose and ran under the Daley’s car. He convinced the little girl to go under the car and get the animal, telling her skunks don’t bite.

She found out different.

“He bit,” she said, “and bit hard.”

Anyway, you get the gist – there are so many interesting things that never make it onto the pages of the newspaper because space doesn’t allow it.

I consider myself blessed to be the one to do a deep dive into people’s lives and come out all the richer. People, I believe, are basically good and amazingly fascinating.

My Pollyanna tendencies are alive and well.