"The job of the newspaper is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." Legendary journalist Finley Peter Dunne coined that phrase more than 100 years ago and I think it still holds some sound advice today. I'm certain I'm not the only writer through the years to apply that technique, but I often use it as a rule of thumb from my perch here on page four.

Those sage words of Dunne crossed my mind earlier this week when I came face to face with "the afflicted" - a person in dire need of comfort and help.

Let me explain.

I was contacted a few days ago about the plight of Kim Stubblefield, a West Frankfort woman who is uninsured, unemployed and virtually homeless. And on top of all that, she's also battling cancer and stands in need of immediate medical treatment.

I made a few phone calls and an interview was scheduled Tuesday at Stone Motel, located between West Frankfort and Johnston City, where Stubblefield is living thanks to the help of Crosswalk Community Action Agency.

Ceasar Maragni, photo editor at The Southern Illinoisan, accompanied me and we were both more than a little apprehensive, not knowing for sure what to expect when we arrived.

Before I go any further I should note that I'm keenly aware of the two hats I wear at this newspaper as a reporter and a columnist. I rarely, if ever, use this space to write about news or feature stories I've covered as a reporter. And on the flipside as a reporter I strive to simply state the facts of the story while leaving my oversized opinion out of the mix.

I fully understand that the dual role is unique and also that it sometimes requires me to do a balancing act.

In covering the story, I felt like my job as a reporter was to take the reader into that small motel room and then give Stubblefield a voice - a voice nobody apparently had heard. And although it was difficult, my job was also to simply report the facts and not to interject my own personal feelings into the story. From the volume of e-mails and phone calls received after the story ran, I believe I did my job.

However, as a columnist I would be remiss to not try and explain to you what I saw in that cramped, outdated motel room - not through the eyes of a reporter, but through layman's eyes.

When I entered the room, Stubblefield was sitting on the side of the bed and a friend who has been helping her, Jo Linton, was standing. My first reaction was how tiny and fragile Stubblefield appeared. With a scarf-like covering over her neck to hide surgical scars and a hole in her throat, my initial thought was that she reminded me of a small, wounded and scared animal.

Stubblefield talked with the aid of a device that she held against her throat that made her voice like that of a robot. I strained and watched her mouth on every word in order to understand what she was saying.

As I listened to her story, a story of marriage, family, steady work, insurance and then nothing, I realized the things I've heard about 80 percent of Americans being two paychecks away from being homeless are all true.

As I listened to Stubblefield talk about rejection after rejection after rejection from every local, state and federal agency she sought help from, I fought off the urge to scream about something like this taking place in the richest country in the world.

On the state level we can spend $9 million to elect an Illinois Supreme Court justice and pay do-nothing, double-dipping politicians a six-figure retirement, but a dying woman can't get medical help. On a national level we can spend hundreds of millions of dollars to build a bridge in Alaska that 50 people per day use and a zillion dollars on a war in Iraq - but a cancer-stricken woman can't afford to go to the doctor.

I don't care what your political party affiliation is ¦ there is something tragically wrong with that picture.

Former Vice President Hubert Humphrey spoke more than 40 years ago about the responsibility of taking care of those people unable to take care of themselves.

Humphrey's words still ring true today.

"The moral test of a government," Humphrey said, "is how it treats those who are at the dawn of life, the children; those who are in the twilight of life, the aged; and those who are in the shadow of life, the sick, the needy, and the handicapped."

A few days ago I met with a woman Humphrey would have described as "in the shadow of life." She's sick … but she can't get medical help. She's needy … but she doesn't know if she'll have food today. She's handicapped by cancer … and handed rejection.

When you consider the tragedy of Kim Stubblefield and then factor in Humphrey's poignant words - sadly, we failed our moral test.

JIM MUIR is a columnist for The Southern Illinoisan and can be reached at writeon1@shawneelink.net.