It seemed like a simple enough story. One that would strum your heartstrings, yes, but no one could have foreseen how far it ended up going.

Dunsmuir Code Enforcement Officer Tony Congi called me over one Friday at Manfredi's and told me he was heading south for Easter to deliver a ring he'd found to its owner in Vallejo. I took a few notes. Looked good.

He gave me the ring to photograph. I ran home, shot it on a set I use for eBay offerings, and ran back to Manfredi's to return it. Took all of a half hour.

I knocked the piece out in about 400 words.

After he returned, Tony provided me with a photo his wife Eileen had taken of him returning the ring to 90-year-old Jesse Mattos. I submitted it to the paper with everything else and, job finished, moved on.

Maybe a month later, I caught word from out there from somewhere on the Dunsmuir grapevine that my story about Tony returning a 1938 class ring had aired on television.

I did a quick search on Google, and my jaw dropped.

Apparently, local television network affilates for ABC, CBS and NBC sent correspondents to Jesse's home to cover and rewrite the story. Their printed works replaced my words with their own, but kept Tony's quotes.

This story reprinted all over the web. Read, world.

A few weeks ago, a news photo service company called Ikonic Pix contacted me by email and asked if it could use the story's photos. Since Tony owned one, I asked him if he wanted a cut of the syndication fee they were offering.

He declined. I, too, had no problem giving up the rights to my picture of the lost ring found.

Next thing I know, Tony's waving a copy of the supermarket tabloid National Examiner in my face. Sandwiched between Doris Day's Dying Wish! and Aretha Franklin's Secret Love! was a remnant of the story I had turned in to the Dunmsuir News three months before.

I could have had a photo credit in a scandal rag!

Last month I wrote a story about a lost dog found in Dunsmuir after an 11-day search that involved a number of townsfolk who didn't even know the owner. At the victory party after Tinker was found, well-wishers dropped by the Burger Barn for six hours straight!

I mean, how heartwarming is that?

I shot all the pictures that ran with that article. They're mine.

Steven Spielberg, I'm waiting.