What happened to Ann Curry after a 25-year career at NBC News?

What happened to Ann Curry?

The veteran journalist, who celebrates her 67th birthday on November 19, has remained relatively quiet since she was forced out of her job at Today in 2012 and later, NBC News in 2015.

Despite her name no longer appearing in the headlines, Curry continues to work in the field of journalism.

Curry, the eldest of five, was born in Guam to Hiroe Nagase and Robert Paul “Bob” Curry. As a child she spent several years living in Japan before her family moved to Oregon where she attended high school and would later attend and graduate from college.

She began her broadcasting career in 1978 as an intern at KTVL, then an NBC affiliate in Oregon. After succeeding as an intern she was promoted to become the station’s first female news reporter.

Two years into her career she moved to KGW in Portland where she worked as both an anchor and reporter. She later moved to Los Angeles where she worked as a reporter for a CBS affiliate for six years.

During that time she won two Emmy Awards for her work.

https://www.instagram.com/p/2oXdqZs1gY/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=6a608194-d895-4f9f-bb63-1c9ca7572102

Career at NBC News

In 1990, Curry began her career at NBC News.

She began as an NBC News Chicago correspondent before securing a job as an anchor on the now defunct show, NBC News at Sunrise. During her five-year stint as an anchor on the morning show, she also filled in for Today‘s Matt Lauer.

In 1997 she was promoted to news anchor on Today and held the position from 1997 to 2011.

In addition to reading the news on Today, Curry was named co-anchor of Dateline NBC in 2005, and she was the main substitute on NBC Nightly News from 2005 to 2011.

Ann Curry, Al Roker, Katie Couric and Matt Lauer. (Photo by Rick Maiman/Sygma via Getty Images)

Regardless of her accolades or coverage of hard news stories, in June 2012, Curry found herself out of a job.

Her departure was emotional and public, and it was never very clear the reason behind her leaving Today.

While she no longer sat next to Matt Lauer, she remained with NBC News, but only until January 2015.

Life after NBC News

Following her 25-year career with NBC News, Curry slowed down, but made no less of an impact with her reporting.

She founded a multi-platform media company, reported and produced the PBS series We’ll Meet Again, gave a TED Talk about restoring trust in journalism, and hosted TNT’s Chasing the Cure.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK – MARCH 30: Ann Curry attends the 2023 A Great Night In Harlem Gala at The Apollo Theater on March 30, 2023 in New York City. (Photo by Arturo Holmes/Getty Images)

In 2022, Curry received the Murrow Lifetime Achievement Award from Washington State University’s Edward R. Murrow College of Communication. The university recognized her work “on human suffering in war zones and natural disasters through her work as an American journalist, photojournalist, and reporter.”

Most recently, Curry sat down with Min Jin Lee, author of “Pachinko,” for PBS Arts Talk.

And while Curry has kept posting to a bare minimum on social media, after a year and a half absence, she returned to share a wintry photo.

https://www.instagram.com/p/C3SkHLZuHzL/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=63de8031-88f0-4e33-9b09-1074a9bee97a

“Good morning world. Keep safe and cozy. ‘The woods are lovely, dark and deep…’” she wrote before disappearing again.

Old Janitor Gives His Jacket to a Freezing Girl on the Street

An old street cleaner gives his only coat to a freezing girl, thinking nothing of it — until she returns seven years later, successful and unrecognizable, holding the same coat…and a life-changing surprise.

At sixty years old, James had settled into a life of quiet repetition. Every morning before the city fully woke, he was already out on the streets, broom in hand, sweeping away the evidence of yesterday — cigarette butts, fallen leaves, crumpled receipts, and the occasional coffee cup someone had carelessly discarded.

In the evenings, he did it all over again.

An old man sweeping the streets in the morning | Source: Midjourney

An old man sweeping the streets in the morning | Source: Midjourney

The shop owners along his route knew him, though few really knew him. To some, he was just Old James, the street cleaner who worked like clockwork, his presence as familiar as the buildings themselves.

The baker on the corner sometimes gave him a roll at the end of the day. The café owner would nod in greeting. Others barely acknowledged him, treating him like part of the city infrastructure; a lamppost with a broom.

James didn’t mind. At least, that’s what he told himself.

An old man looks thoughtful while sitting on a bench | Source: Midjourney

An old man looks thoughtful while sitting on a bench | Source: Midjourney

His world was small. A single-room apartment with peeling wallpaper and a radiator that only worked when it wanted to. No family, no visitors, no pets. Just him, his broom, and the endless rhythm of work.

Then came that winter.

The cold had settled in early, wrapping the city in an icy grip. Snow piled up along the sidewalks, the wind cut like a blade, and even James, wrapped in his old, frayed jacket, felt it sink deep into his bones.

A back-view of an old man walking on a sidewalk in snowfall | Source: Pexels

A back-view of an old man walking on a sidewalk in snowfall | Source: Pexels

That’s when he saw her.

She couldn’t have been older than fourteen: small, thin, with tangled dark hair that half-covered her face. She moved quickly, her arms wrapped around herself, as if trying to shrink against the cold. But what struck James most — what made him pause, mid-sweep — was what she was wearing.

Just a sweater.

No coat. No gloves. No scarf.

James frowned, lowering his broom. That’s not right.

“Child!” he called out, his voice gruff from years of talking to no one.

The girl stiffened but didn’t turn immediately.

A young girl in a thin sweater is standing in the cold | Source: Midjourney

A young girl in a thin sweater is standing in the cold | Source: Midjourney

James took a few steps closer, his boots crunching against the frost-covered pavement. “Why are you only wearing a thin sweater?”

She finally turned, her expression guarded. Up close, he could see that her lips were slightly blue, her hands curled into fists against the cold.

She shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “It’s all I have.”

James inhaled sharply. Something heavy settled in his chest.

Without thinking, he unbuttoned his jacket and pulled it off, stepping forward to drape it over her small shoulders.

An old man unbuttons his jacket while standing in the cold outside | Source: Midjourney

An old man unbuttons his jacket while standing in the cold outside | Source: Midjourney

The girl’s eyes went wide. “Oh—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” James cut in, his voice firm. “And you will. It’s way too cold to be out here like that.”

She hesitated, gripping the jacket with small, trembling fingers. The fabric hung loose on her, swallowing her up, but she didn’t let go.

A slow, shy smile broke across her face. “Thank you, Mr. Dumbledore.”

James blinked. “What?”

She giggled, adjusting the jacket around herself. “You look like Professor Dumbledore from ‘Harry Potter’,” she explained.

A smiling young girl wearing a warm winter jacket in icy cold weather | Source: Midjourney

A smiling young girl wearing a warm winter jacket in icy cold weather | Source: Midjourney

James huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Is that so?”

She nodded, grinning now. “You just need a wand.”

James smirked. “Don’t have one of those, but I’m glad my jacket could come in handy.”

The girl looked down at herself, running her hands over the thick fabric. When she looked back up, there was something different in her eyes, something deeper than gratitude.

“You’re really kind,” she murmured.

James waved her off with a scoff. “You’re welcome, child. Now go on, get somewhere warm.”

An old man smiles while standing on the street and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

An old man smiles while standing on the street and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She hesitated for half a second, then gave him a small, quick wave before turning and walking away.

James stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd. The wind cut through his sweater now, making his joints ache, but he barely noticed.

He never saw her again.

Not for seven years.

The city had changed in that time. New buildings had gone up, old ones had been replaced. The bakery he used to sweep in front of had become a trendy café with overpriced lattes.

The exterior of a café on the street during nighttime | Source: Pexels

The exterior of a café on the street during nighttime | Source: Pexels

The streets were busier, filled with younger faces. But James was still there, still sweeping, still following the same quiet routine.

Until one afternoon.

He was sweeping the same street corner when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

“Professor Dumbledore?”

The voice was warm, teasing. Familiar.

James turned, frowning slightly.

Standing before him was a young woman; tall, poised, with bright eyes and an easy smile.

A young woman with a pleasant smile is looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A young woman with a pleasant smile is looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

In her hands, she held an old, worn-out jacket. His jacket. The pockets were stuffed with something bulky.

James swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight.

“Child?” he whispered softly.

And just like that, the past came rushing back.

James stood frozen, his broom slack in his grip.

A startled old man holding a sweeping brush while standing on the road | Source: Midjourney

A startled old man holding a sweeping brush while standing on the road | Source: Midjourney

The young woman in front of him — poised, confident, her coat buttoned neatly over a crisp blouse — held his old, worn-out jacket in her hands.

It didn’t make sense.

She looked nothing like the shivering girl he had draped it over all those years ago.

But those eyes.

Those were the same. Bright. Grateful. Knowing.

“Child?” His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

The woman grinned. “You still call me that?” She shook her head fondly. “It’s been seven years, James.”

A young woman grins while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A young woman grins while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

Hearing his name from her mouth startled him. How did she even remember?

She shifted slightly, glancing down at the jacket before meeting his eyes again. “I was hoping I’d find you here. You never left this street, did you?”

James cleared his throat, forcing himself to snap out of his daze. He straightened up, gripping his broom tighter. “Not much reason to leave.”

She studied him for a moment, then smiled. “Do you have time for a coffee? There’s a place right around the corner.”

A cozy café interior with an open window | Source: Pexels

A cozy café interior with an open window | Source: Pexels

James hesitated. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had invited him anywhere. His life followed a routine — wake up, sweep, eat, sleep. Coffee with a stranger, even one who clearly knew him, wasn’t in the schedule.

But then he looked at the jacket in her hands.

His jacket.

And he nodded.

The café was warm, filled with the scent of roasted beans and fresh pastries. It was the kind of place James rarely stepped into — too polished, too expensive.

She ordered two coffees before he could protest. “Black, right?” she asked, raising a brow.

A photo showing two cups of coffee on a table | Source: Pexels

A photo showing two cups of coffee on a table | Source: Pexels

James blinked. “How’d you—”

“You seem like the type,” she said with a knowing smile.

They took a seat by the window. The heat from the café’s radiator seeped into James’ cold bones, making him realize just how much winter had settled into him over the years.

She slid the jacket across the table. “I wanted to return this.”

James shook his head. “I gave it to you.”

“I know,” she said softly, running her fingers over the worn fabric. “But I needed you to know what it meant.”

A young woman looks at someone with understanding and warmth | Source: Midjourney

A young woman looks at someone with understanding and warmth | Source: Midjourney

James tilted his head, waiting.

She exhaled slowly. “Seven years ago, I was homeless.”

James didn’t react, but something in his chest twisted.

“I had run away from a shelter. It wasn’t… a good place.” She hesitated, then continued, “That night was the coldest I had ever been in my life. I was trying to convince myself I’d be fine. That I didn’t need anyone. Then you stopped me.”

James shifted in his seat. “It was just a jacket.”

She smiled gently. “No. It wasn’t.”

A closeup shot of a smiling young woman in a café | Source: Midjourney

A closeup shot of a smiling young woman in a café | Source: Midjourney

She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, the steam curling into the air. “You didn’t just give me a coat. You made me feel… seen. Like I mattered. No one had done that in a long time.”

James was quiet. He didn’t know what to say to that.

An old man is sitting in a café and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

An old man is sitting in a café and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She continued, her voice steady. “That night, because of you, I went back to the shelter. I told myself I’d try one more time. I started studying and working any job I could find. I became a cashier at a small store, and the owner — he saw something in me. He promoted me to manager. Then, when I was nineteen, he made me director of his entire grocery chain.”

James let out a low whistle. “That’s… a lot.”

She laughed. “Yeah, it was.” She tapped the old jacket. “But I never forgot where it started.”

An old worn-out jacket lying on a table in a café | Source: Midjourney

An old worn-out jacket lying on a table in a café | Source: Midjourney

James stared at the jacket, his weathered hands resting on the table. “Didn’t expect all that from just a jacket.”

“It wasn’t just the jacket.” She leaned forward. “It was you.

James swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to this, to being looked at like he had done something important.

He cleared his throat, glancing away. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing well.”

An old man looks away while sitting in a café | Source: Midjourney

An old man looks away while sitting in a café | Source: Midjourney

They talked a little longer — about small things. About how the city had changed. About how James still hated how people littered even when there was a trash can two feet away. She laughed at that, and James realized he liked the sound.

Finally, she stood up. “I won’t keep you.”

James followed her to the door. She turned back one last time. “You changed my life, James. I hope you know that.”

Then she was gone.

A young woman with a bright smile is standing outside and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A young woman with a bright smile is standing outside and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

That evening, James sat in his tiny apartment, the jacket lying in front of him. Suddenly, he noticed the bulky pockets and decided to check what they were hiding.

His hands stilled. Inside were stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills. His breath caught as he counted, his mind struggling to process.

Fifty thousand dollars.

His heart pounded, his thoughts racing. He had never seen this much cash in his life.

What was he supposed to do with it?

A closeup shot of 100 Dollar Bills | Source: Pexels

A closeup shot of 100 Dollar Bills | Source: Pexels

He could move somewhere better. Buy a real winter coat instead of the old patched-up thing he had now. Maybe even stop working — just rest for once in his life.

But then he thought of her.

Of a fourteen-year-old girl walking in the snow with nothing but a sweater.

And James made up his mind.

The next few weeks were the busiest James had ever been.

He visited every shelter in the city, buying jackets, scarves, gloves — whatever the kids needed. He bought toys, books, and warm blankets.

A collection of warm clothing and children's toys | Source: Midjourney

A collection of warm clothing and children’s toys | Source: Midjourney

Every time he handed something out, he saw their eyes light up.

He saw her in each of them.

James never told anyone where the money had come from. He didn’t need to.

One cold evening, he stood outside a shelter, watching a group of kids try on their new coats and jackets, their laughter ringing through the icy air.

A small boy tugged on his sleeve. “Sir, why are you doing this?”

James smiled.

“Just an old man with an extra jacket.”

And for the first time in a long time, he felt warm.

An old man smiles while standing on the street | Source: Midjourney

An old man smiles while standing on the street | Source: Midjourney

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