Sam Goodwin – What Loving Parents Do

St. Louis, MO USA
[Draft] – May 20, 2026

In 2019, I was kidnapped and taken hostage in Syria during what was supposed to be the final stretch of a decade-long journey to travel to every country in the world. Much of my nine weeks in captivity was spent in isolation. I had no contact with the outside world and no idea what was happening beyond the walls of my cell. But what I did know was this: I trusted my family completely.

At the time, I did not know the extent of what was unfolding back in the United States. I did not know my parents were suddenly navigating meetings with the FBI, State Department, intelligence officials, journalists, Vatican leaders and contacts spread across the Middle East. I did not know my family had essentially transformed themselves into their own detective agency, and my parents’ home into a command center, building spreadsheets, tracking leads, organizing calls, and coordinating information coming in from around the world. I did not know my dad was barely sleeping while searching for anyone who might help. I did not know my mom was carrying the emotional weight of the situation while somehow remaining calm enough to keep everyone moving forward.

On the inside, my world became very small. My job was to survive one day at a time. I focused on routines, prayer, memories, and trying not to lose hope. Meanwhile, on the outside, my family was carrying uncertainty that had no clear ending. Each phone call could potentially change everything. Every rumor mattered, and every day without answers brought new fear.

After I returned home and slowly learned more about all my family had gone through, I remember joking that I think I had the easy part. There is some truth in that joke. Inside the prison, there were moments of fear and loneliness, but there was also some clarity. Survival became simple. My family, on the other hand, had to live in constant uncertainty while somehow continuing to function, make decisions, and fight for me every single day. That is what loving parents do.

They do not stop when the situation becomes inconvenient, uncertain, or terrifying. They move toward the pain. They absorb fear so their children can keep going. They continue showing up long after exhaustion would give most people permission to quit. Looking back now, I realize my story is not ultimately about captivity. It is about love expressed through action. My parents could not control what happened in Syria, but they controlled their response to it. They chose persistence over despair, and faith over hopelessness.

Since returning home, I have written a book about the experience called Saving Sam and now speak to organizations around the world about uncertainty, resilience and human connection. Ironically, the more I share the story publicly, the more I realize it was never just my story. It belongs to my family too. People often ask me how I survived Syria. The truth is, I survived because I was loved long before I ever entered that prison.