The question I’m asked most often is how I found my way into true crime television. The answer begins with a man I never had the privilege to meet: Leon Klinghoffer.

I was a senior in high school when Mr. Klinghoffer, a 69-year-old Jewish American, boarded the Achille Lauro with his wife, Marilyn, to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary.

On October 7, 1985, four members of the Palestine Liberation Front hijacked the Italian cruise ship off the coast of Egypt, taking its passengers and crew hostage. The following day, Mr. Klinghoffer — who used a wheelchair after suffering two strokes — was shot and killed. His body and wheelchair were thrown overboard.

During my freshman year of college, while watching an NBC News documentary about the hijacking of the Achille Lauro and the murder of Mr. Klinghoffer, I knew I wanted to tell the stories of victims - not simply how they died, but how they lived. 

Leon Klinghoffer wasn't just a victim of murder. He was a poor Lower East Side kid who helped support his mother. A WWII veteran. An inventor. A businessman. A charitable man. A father of two daughters. A husband who took his wife dancing on Saturday nights. A guy who loved Sinatra and Lena Horne. A man who survived two strokes, used a wheelchair kept showing up for work.

Mr. Klinghoffer's story charted the course of my career. He taught me something that has guided my work ever since: every life extends far beyond its final chapter, and every victim deserves to have their story told.