What was it about James Kim's story?

I don't know about you all, but I've been engrossed by the story of James Kim and his family for the past week. (Here's his Wikipedia article.) From the moment I heard about the missing family, I checked the news every time I went online, hoping to read about their rescue from a remote Oregon wilderness. I prayed with my wife for their rescue, and also with my Bible study partners.

Today, one day after the story ended, the tech news sites were full of eulogies and lessons learned. I read an excellent essay that summarized a lot of what I still feel. What was it that made this story so gripping? What differentiates it from the sad desperation we see everyday in the eyes of homeless people, or know is going on in places like Darfur?

Was it really because James Kim was like us, relatively rich, young, metropolitan, and with an lovely family? Or was it because we would have liked to be like him? For the tech audience this story had special draw. Kim was an editor at CNET and technology played a big role in his search (and possibly in getting them into trouble, because Google Maps didn't contain important information about the road). Did a part of us want his geek resourcefulness to save the day?

For me, I guess I was so stricken by the story and its mixed ending because I know myself: I often make stupid mistakes that have terribly unintentional consequences. (Such as using a razor blade to separate super-glued fingers.) There is something about young men that makes them confident in their own ability to make things work. (Ok, I'm generalizing.) According to his wife, Kim believed the next town was just four miles down river. That's the reason he left the road to trek off into the rugged terrain--I admit that is something I may well have done myself, given the same situation.

I still feel terribly for Kim and his family. And feel terribly for myself as well. I can't help but imagine myself in his place during those last hours, trying to keep going, to stay alive, to be a father for my family.