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Little Mexico in Denison, Iowa?

An authentic, "mom and pop" style Mexican restaurant in rural Iowa? Si, amigo! Welcome to Denison, Iowa, about 100 miles west of Des Moines, a place that hundreds of Hispanic immigrants now call home. I traveled to Denison last week to learn more about this changing town as part of our series on immigration called "Whose America?"

Correspondent Ron Allen, cameraman Ray Farmer and audio technician Dennis Fry rounded out our team. We went to talk with Denison residents, both native and newly-arrived, and to tour the Farmland Foods meat-packing plant, which is the main attraction for this new wave of workers. Its high-paying jobs rival those in big cities like Los Angeles, and the cost of living in Iowa is obviously far lower.

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Grieving in West Virginia

We are in the heart of America. That’s clear. The people work with their hands. They eat dinner with their families. The townspeople grieve together. This is a town that cares.

Like in most coal mining towns, the people here in Buckhannon are close. You've probably heard the townspeople saying, "We’re family here." That's not just talk. They are. Almost everyone we have interviewed either knows a miner who died or knows someone who does.

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Covering the funerals

The media coverage has now entered the delicate phase of covering the miners' funerals. It's a difficult circumstance for us because while the services are certainly "news" that we need to document, we obviously want to respect the families' privacy. A few families allowed a still photographer from the Associated Press into the services. But most of the families expressly wrote in the newspaper obituaries that the media was not welcome. That is perfectly understandable, and I believe that most media outlets, including NBC, respected the wishes of those specific families. At the other services, the media stayed back a considerable distance. It was mostly very quiet.

On Saturday, I covered a wake in the town of Philippi with a camera crew. We were at least 100 yards away, if not more, and there was no attempted communication between us or the mourners. Once the West Virginia governor left that service, we left as well. Meanwhile, at another service, one of my colleagues reported that some congregants did yell at them from their vehicles, calling the media "vultures" and telling them to leave. Again, we don't want to invade anyone's privacy. Honestly, we don't want to be there at all. It is truly the worst part of our jobs on a story like this. I do thank the residents here for putting up with us, and for being welcoming and tolerant for the most part. I know they're ready to get back to normal after a terrible week, and our presence here is anything but normal.

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Small town mourning

While covering the mine tragedy in Philippi, West Virginia, I encountered an unlikely parallel, an ironic commonality with one of the folks we met. Rusty, owner of Thorn Hill Florist, was busy preparing close to 100 floral arrangements for several of the miners' funerals. This is not simply business for Rusty, his wife, and their team of florists. In a small town, they usually know the deceased. And in this case, they are simply overwhelmed by knowing all of the families of the miners. With tears in his eyes, he told me "it's really hard having this job right now."

His words struck me because that's how we feel covering a story like this. It's extremely sad, so tragic. It hurts us to cover such a painful event. But we have to. It's our job. So, my heart really goes out to Rusty. Like us, he is doing his best to do his job, albeit reluctantly under the sad circumstances. I know he would gladly give up the money this tragedy is generating for his floral shop to have the miners alive and well, and home with their families.

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Leaving you smiling

One of the most peculiar and challenging aspects of building a newscast is the quest to achieve balance. Wednesday night we had to lead with the tragic and deadly bombings in Amman, but there's also the desire to close the newscast on a lighter, more positive note. To me, that balance is especially difficult to achieve when you're in the midst of a news day filled with death and destruction.

But my assignment was to cut the "feel good" closing piece on Wednesday, the story of 18-year-old Michael Sessions, who on Tuesday was elected mayor of Hillsdale, Michigan. No, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you -- he's just 18 and he's the town's new mayor! Correspondent Carl Quintanilla, along with field producers Christiana Arvetis and Mark Hudspeth, made the road trip from our Chicago bureau to talk to Michael, who is still in high school. Here's a kid who wanted to make a difference for his hometown, his neighbors, and his family, and campaigned to get enough write-in votes to win the election.

So, even on a day filled with tales of terror and uncertainty, we still owe it to our viewers to provide a positive snapshot of America; one person's story. When Brian says "goodnight" at the end of the show, we do want the "good" part to stay with you.

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When the story hits close to home

As the cutting producer of Martin Savidge's stories this week, I am on the receiving end of the amazing video and compelling stories coming out of the Katrina zone. Martin and his field producers gather the footage and interviews all day, then feed the material via satellite to me in Chicago. I then work with a video editor to put his story together, then we feed it to New York for the newscast.

Tonight's story hit close to home for me, as my father's family is originally from Washington Parish, Louisiana, Martin's last road stop of the day. I made the suggestion that our team visit there because, as the Parish president says, it is often "the forgotten parish."

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