How Joanne Rogers became 'my neighbor': Reporter's notebook

I've always been grateful as a "Nightline" producer for the opportunity to parachute into people's lives, but I never imagined that meeting Mrs. Rogers, or Joanne, as she would correct you, in the summer of 2018 would turn into a meaningful friendship.

I was producing a piece on the soon-to-be Oscar-nominated Mr. Rogers documentary, "Won't You Be My Neighbor." We met at Joanne Rogers' country club, near her home in Pittsburgh. She walked in all smiles, and greeted all of us one at a time.

While the crew and I tweaked her shots, she sat under the lights happily reminiscing with John Donvan about a "Nightline" piece he'd done on her late husband, Fred Rogers, back in 2001. She remembered specific details from her husband about that shoot, and was tickled to hear from Donvan about other details that hadn't made the cut.

On camera she was cheery, quick-witted, sassy, humble and full of light. Off camera, she was the same, but even warmer.

Once the shoot was over, while everyone else dispersed, the two of us somehow ended up together alone in the club vestibule, and without the pressure of more filming, sat down for a few minutes as she catch her breath. Growing up, and as an adult, I'd been very close to my grandmothers, so hanging with the then-89-year-old came organically.

We chatted about the upcoming shoots I was contemplating for the piece, as well as our families. I don't remember any of the words from that conversation, but I do remember how she made me feel: like she'd glimpsed a snapshot of my soul, and I was more fulfilled for it.

The premise of that "Nightline" piece three years ago was simple: In this era of hate speech and division, do we need Mr. Rogers now more than ever? It's a question that could also easily be asked of Mrs. Rogers these days.

She put things into perspective, exuded kindness and patience, was heartfelt, level-headed, bubbly, engaging, forthright and fun. She wanted to know and cared about your feelings and thoughts, and what was important to you. And as "Mrs. Rogers," and the wife of a minister, she was right out of central casting.

A few months after our piece aired, there was a mass shooting at a synagogue in Pittsburgh. As an iconic local figure, I reached out to her people to see if she might be willing to participate in "Nightline's" coverage. I never heard back from them, but a few days later she reached out to me directly, apologizing profusely for the delay.

Somehow that conversation would become the first over the next years where we'd talk and text about our lives and current events.

The last time I spoke with Joanne was on Jan. 2. I had missed a FaceTime from her the day before, and that day she texted me to call her. As soon as she answered I could tell she wasn't doing great. Even though she was dynamic and completely engaged, I felt the effort and energy she was putting into our conversation.

We talked about her health, her grandchildren, my children and a lot about politics. I can struggle with being in the present moment, but that day during our conversation, I was so grateful to her for infusing her sunshine, levity and optimism into my second day of 2021, and told her if this was how the new year was kicking off, it could be a much brighter one.

My kids know of Mr. Rogers' show and of Mrs. Rogers, and tonight at dinner I shared with them that Joanne had died. My 5-year-old daughter asked, "what happens to people when they die, do they become a star in the sky?"

When you were lucky enough to be in Joanne's orbit here on earth, Joanne shone, for sure. But tonight I think there is a star up there shining brighter, and to her, I say, thank you.

This was written on Thursday, Jan. 14, 2020.