By Joe Delmonico, Dateline Producer

 

Did we meet the Monster?

 

That's a question all of us who worked on this story have contemplated.  The case of the Monster of Florence is probably the most notorious murder investigation in Italian history.  Equal parts Son of Sam and Silence of the Lambs, with a dash of OJ Simpson and a big dollop of Italian drama, this is not your run-of-the-mill murder case. 

By Joe Delmonico, Dateline Producer

Let me be candid:  I was predisposed not to like these guys. 

You see, I am not a royal watcher.  Quite the contrary.  It's always been hard for me to care about the doings of people who were born into immense wealth, guaranteed admission to the finest schools, and assured of a lifetime of total privilege, comfort and security, without having to earn any of it.  William and Harry don't just automatically go to the head of the line—they never see the line.  How can they possibly have insights that are relevant to those of us leading normal lives?  And aren't they so programmed to always say the right thing that they're incapable of the spontaneity that makes an interview interesting?

Add to that the inherent hassle of interviewing such people.  It's nobody's fault, just the way it is.  For example, you can't interview two princes just anywhere.  Their representatives decided the interview should take place at Clarence House, which is the official London residence of the Prince of Wales.  It's a lovely old building with manicured gardens and a courtyard where there's a footprint reputedly left by Henry VIII.  Clarence house also has security cameras watching your every move, machine guns on the roof, and guards who wear those very photogenic red coats and beaver hats and carry very impressive assault rifles.  We were cautioned – only half in jest-- not to stray too far from the area assigned to us, lest bullets start flying.

Also for reasons of security and the princes' comfort level, the palace representatives required us to severely limit the size of our crew and radically simplify our usual lighting setup.  (The fact that this ancient building has ancient wiring also argued in favor of the fewest lights possible.)  We all of course underwent the usual background checks, and all our camera and lighting gear was gone over by bomb-sniffing dogs.

All the while I am asking myself: for what?  So we can interview a couple spoiled kids with nothing much to say?

Then the interview started.

Matt mentioned that Princess Diana has always wanted the boys to lead as normal a life as possible.  Would she think they were doing a good job?

Harry jumped right in:  "I think she'd be happy in the way that we're going about it, but slightly unhappy about the way other people were going about it, as in saying: 'Look, you're not normal, so stop trying to be normal.'"

William soon interrupted: "You may be abnormal.  I'm pretty normal,"  which made everybody laugh. 

So the tone was set: surprisingly forthright answers, leavened with humor.  Harry in particular impressed everybody who saw him in person or has seen him on tape.  Over the years he's managed to get himself photographed in more than one awkward situation, and has mostly been portrayed in the media as a party boy and a loose cannon, even a bit of a lout—and he knows it. When Matt asked the brothers to describe each other, Harry offered that William is "definitely the more intelligent of the two of us, which I'm sure is the next question!"

Yet the Harry we met seemed thoughtful, straightforward, and genuine.  He provided what was to my mind the most poignant moment in the interview. 

Speaking of about his mother, Princess Diana, Harry said, "You know when people think about it they think about her death.  They think about how wrong it was. They think about whatever happened.  I don't know for-- for me personally whatever happened you know that night.  Whatever happened in that tunnel.  No one will ever know.  And I'm sure people will always think about that the whole time."

"Have you stopped wondering?" asked Matt.

Harry responded, "I'll never stop wondering about that," and the look on his face showed he never would.

Right about then I had the belated realization that despite their vast wealth and immense privilege, these were two guys in their twenties dealing with some enormous and universal challenges: their mom's death, not to mention the messy divorce that preceded it; their dad's remarriage; the normal twentysomething issues of romance and career choices and the occasional boneheaded behavior at the local bar.  The huge difference of course, is that since William and Harry were infants every one of these dramas large and small played out on a world stage, with, as William put it, "all eyes on."

One of the classic setups for storytelling is putting ordinary people in extraordinary situations.  The fact that William and Harry seem so very normal, coupled with the fact that their life situation could not be farther from normal, means that at the end of the day, despite my misgivings, they do have a story to tell. 

Hope you enjoy it.

Watch the full interview on Dateline, Monday at 10 p.m. on June 18. Click here for preview video, which aired on TODAY this morning.  Click here to read a Q&A with Matt Lauer about what it's like to talk with the Princes.

by Stone Phillips, Dateline anchor

I like inspirational stories.  We in the media don't do enough of them.  So when I heard about the Vietnamese-Americans of New Orleans and how their remarkable recovery after Katrina lifted an entire community, I was intrigued. 

Tommy Nguyen, Dateline producer

I was told by my senior producer to bring my small digital video camera for a simple reconnaissance mission. That was the initial idea.

The Vietnamese American community in New Orleans was doing some astonishing things post-Katrina, and my senior producer thought an extra pair of eyes might be helpful as Stone went down to check out a story. Even though it began as a research trip, my senior wanted someone who had some shooting experience to go along. While I am certainly no cameraman, I was looking forward to the assignment. And my understanding of the Vietnamese language, even on a mere first-grade level, would probably come in handy.

The scouting project had a special appeal for me. Unlike my experience as a print reporter -- where I often covered a range of specialized topics -- I've since discovered that working in television news forces one to be a generalist most of the time.

But here was a world I've known since I was five years old. Growing up in Orange County, California, my mother would take me on weekend shopping trips to the sprawling Vietnamese community of Little Saigon, about a 20-minute drive away from my family's first home in east Anaheim. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but at that age I knew my mother was a different person whenever she took me there.

When my mother, who has a limited command of the English language, took me to the banks or the supermarket chains near our home, she would often seem hesitant and confused -- unwilling, for example, to press the issue with the checkout clerk if she felt she had been overcharged. In Little Saigon, however, she was an unstoppable force: arguing with store managers, barging through my doctor's door when I was sick, laughing and gossiping with friends at the businesses they owned. She knew the faces around her, and she knew her way around -- it was the place where she got things done.

It's awful to think that my mother, who grew up in a warring Vietnam ever since she was a teenager, would ever have to endure another full-scale tragedy in her lifetime. But it is comforting to know -- especially since I now live 2,500 miles away -- that she still has a community of friends and family close by to make her the strong, unconfused, undeterred woman whom I know she is. I could easily see my mother, a Catholic as well, doing her weekend shopping in this Vietnamese community of New Orleans East, and also benefiting from their enormous generosity should that unfortunate disaster occur.

When Stone and I came back from New Orleans the first time, I was too exhausted to look over my footage. Imagine my surprise when, a few days later, Stone showed me the first draft of a script. He read it to me in his office. It was a great script, but I was terrified by the thought that this was definitely going to turn into a Dateline report and that the video I had shot would actually appear in a national broadcast.

In the end, the footage worked out better than any of us thought. I suppose when the subject is this inspiring, and the faces in the frame this honest, simple point-and-shoot technique can almost pass for professional work. Of all the images I captured, those that made the greatest impression were the faces of the very young and the very old. Shooting close-ups of the older Vietnamese women was a real challenge. They believe that being old means being unattractive, so they wondered why on earth I would want to photograph them. The situation forced me to speak the language better, to demonstrate my cultural understanding of their fears and apprehensions. I needed to put them at ease. And, in time, most of them came to realize that I was part of their community, despite my terrible Vietnamese. It was at that moment when my camera started to cause less of a disturbance, and when it did its best work.

by Stone Phillips (Dateline anchor)

When I interviewed David Graham for Dateline shortly after his murder conviction in 1998, the handsome former Air Force Academy cadet looked me straight in the eye and swore he wasn't even there the night 16-year-old Adrianne Jones was killed.

He blamed it on his girlfriend.

Graham insisted it was Diane Zamora who picked Adrianne up that night, Diane who drove her to a secluded road in Grand Prairie, Texas, and Diane who shot her in the head. Of course, he was lying through his teeth and later admitted as much. In a recent letter to Dateline producer Ellen Sherman, Graham described his interview with me as "not (his) finest hour."

He blamed it on his lawyer.

Given Graham's affinity for fabrication, I wondered what my interview with Diane Zamora would be like. Like Graham, she had been convicted of capital murder and sentenced to life in prison. Was the former mid-shipman cut from the same cloth? Or, nearly a decade after the crime, would she tell me the truth?

When she approached our camera position from behind a glass partition, Diane appeared demure and depressed. The defiant look she had worn through much of her trial had disappeared, but not for long.

Zamora claimed that she was the victim of verbal and sexual abuse by David Graham, misconduct by police, and mistakes by a jury she believes ignored exculpatory evidence. Yes, she was wrong not to have gone to police right after the murder. Yes, she obstructed justice by helping to cover up the crime for nine months. But Zamora insisted she only went along that night to question Adrianne Jones, not to kill her. It was Graham who planned the murder, she said, and Graham who carried it out.

Zamora told me all she wanted was for people to take a closer look at the evidence. Dateline did. And, indeed, looking back at her trial there was testimony from prosecution witnesses to support some of her claims. But there are also more than a few contradictions in her story.

In the weeks following the interview, a thought occurred to me. Years earlier, during a previous visit with Zamora, she had mentioned to me that she wished she could take a lie detector test. She said her story was the only one that fit the facts and seemed confident that she would pass. I wondered if that was something she was still interested in doing.

So, as we finished preparing our report, I wrote Diane a letter reminding her of our conversation and telling her that Dateline might be able to arrange a polygraph if she was willing to take one. She wrote us back immediately. Her answer was yes. Her lawyer approved. She took the test.

We all knew it wouldn't change anything legally.

Still, the results might give viewers something more to consider in this classic "he said, she said." Zamora saw it as an opportunity to salvage some dignity and, perhaps, a degree of vindication. If not for herself, she said, it was worth doing for her mother, who has stood by Diane from the beginning. She knew that we were going to broadcast the results, no matter what the outcome. I would return to the prison and, with cameras rolling, give her the results.

It would be a first for Zamora... and me.

In my 25 years as a news correspondent, I had never gone back to an interview subject with the results of a lie detector test. Suffice to say, the tension was running high-- a convicted murderer, proclaiming her innocence, presented with the outcome of a long-awaited truth test.

When it was over, we both got up from our chairs. Drained.

Stone Phillips' report on the case airs Dateline Sunday, April 8, 8 p.m.

This was Tuesday's live blog. These posts were meant to coincide with the broadcast.

by Chris Hansen, Dateline correspondent

7:55 p.m.
Meet a the guy who thinks he's about to get away it, at least for a few minutes. Mohamed Abdalla walks into our hidden camera house oozing with confidence. Notice how relaxed he is talking with our actress posing as a young teen home alone. Even when I walk out to talk to him, he's got his story all set and he's sticking to it.

Abdalla tells me that he's in real estate and was driving through our area to check on a piece of property he owns. Along the way he notices that the space shuttle is blasting off from nearby Cape Kennedy and pulls over his car to watch. Just a short while earlier, we too had watch the spectacular nighttime launch.

What Abdalla isn't prepared for is that I have not only the transcripts of his sexually explicit conversation with a decoy posing as a 13-old-girl, but also naked photos of himself that he sent online. How do we know it is Abdalla in the photos? As you're about to see, a unique piece of jewelry in the picture matches one that is hanging around the 34-year-old man's neck. So much for the clever story.

8:16 p.m.
In a moment you're going to meet a 22-year-old college student and chemistry teacher named Deepak Bist. This guy drove four hours to get here and after reading his online chat with a decoy who said she was 13, I am wondering what he was thinking about during that long car ride. I guess you could argue that all of these guys should know better, but Bist actually talks about our investigations during his chat. He even tells the decoy he's watched Dateline's "To Catch A Predator" the evening before his chat. This doesn't seem to stop him from bringing a virtual sex kit to his underage liaison.

8:33 p.m.
We may be shooting in Florida, but on this night it is windy and cold. That doesn't stop a 24-year-old amateur boxer named David Wagner from showing up to meet a 13-year-old girl. The boxer starts to leave when he sees me walk into the room. But watch as he decides to come back and answer some questions. He asks me if this is an "open house" as if he were shopping for real estate. It's an open house all right…one in which 21 men would show up during four days last December.

8:46 p.m.
Towards the end of tonight's show, you're going to see a potential predator try to meet a teen in a location besides our hidden camera house. This is a challenge both logistically and technically. We set up several hidden cameras on the beach across the street from our house. The idea is to have a potential predator meet our decoy on the boardwalk connecting A1A and the beach. As you watch our next guest show up, see if you can figure out where we've hidden our cameras and where the Flagler Beach Police are hiding before the arrest.

8:57 p.m.
Next week, we tell you exactly where everything and everyone was and you'll see what happens when a member of law enforcement shows up in our investigation. It's an officer who may have more firepower than the Flagler Beach officers working in this investigation.

by Stone Phillips, Dateline anchor

 I love football.  Always have.  And when you hear my story, you'll understand why the "Pride of Pampa" is among my all-time favorite hours on Dateline. Covering the Harvesters' first home game this year and telling the green team's story felt like a blast from the past.  

Like so many of the players in Pampa, Texas, I grew up watching my older brother play.  Vic was a team captain for the Blocker Junior High Demons in Texas City, Texas.  He played tight end and, like Pampa's James Coffee, was a pretty impressive punter. 

Although, I must say I never saw my brother punt with his opposite leg the way James did the night we were there, because his kicking leg was injured.  James, my man, that was INCREDIBLE!   Still, Vic was a fine player and later earned a football scholarship.  Talk about tough acts to follow.   

After our family moved to St. Louis, I reached playing age and couldn't wait to suit up.  It wasn't Texas football, but we popped the pads pretty good in Missouri!   I started off playing offensive line on my Koury League team under Pete Weitzel, a volunteer dad and the first of many wonderful coaches I was blessed to play for over the years.  By the time I reached 9th grade, I had speeded up enough to play halfback and linebacker for my junior high team, the Parkway West Longhorns.  Trent Loter, I hope you're reading this, because there could be a quiz!  (Trent is the Pampa football team's equipment manager and he knows the mascot for darn near every high school in the state of Texas-- AMAZING!)  I wore #43 in junior high, because that was Dean Morton's number.  Dean was the star running back for the varsity team at Parkway West and remains one of the best high school backs I've ever seen.  He had speed and strength like Pampa's Chase Harris, and moves like you wouldn't believe.  Dean's father, Don Morton, was the varsity backfield coach.  I'll never forget how he would try not to laugh as the younger backs like myself would line up and take turns showing him our moves.  Let's just say, we weren't exactly faking him out of his jockstrap.  But Coach Morton was always encouraging.

The following year I was called up to the varsity by head coach Jack Wells.  Like most dedicated high school coaches, Coach Wells lived and breathed football, but he also constantly reminded us that family comes first.  I mean, every day he reminded us.  So when Pampa's head coach, Andy Cavalier, told me the story of what he did to make sure his family didn't take a back seat to football, I thought to myself, "A kindred spirit of Jack Wells."   They're both gifted coaches, caring people and great family men.  They have something else in common-- they both know the ups and downs of starting a sophomore at quarterback.

Coach Wells switched me to quarterback and started me as a sophomore.  Never having played the position, I was even greener than the green team's sophomore quarterback, Casey Trimble.  When I interviewed Casey before the game and he confessed to being a little nervous, I couldn't help remembering how I'd broken out in hives at the beginning of my sophomore season. When Casey threw his first touchdown pass of his varsity career,  I knew a lifelong memory had just been made. I remember the first touchdown pass I threw in the fall of 1970 like it was yesterday.  And I'm still grateful to Rick Lockton for making a great catch.

Of course, I also remember the sophomore mistakes I made.  When Casey fumbled the ball, I felt his pain.   

Like so many who play this game, I also experienced the brutality of football.  That's one aspect of the game I abhor. It's hard to see players go down with injuries, some of which can hobble them for years.  During my senior year, I suffered the first of two concussions in football.  I don't remember much of what happened after my bell was rung, only that the field was muddy and when I trudged to the sideline to confer with Coach Wells, I did something we still laugh about.  Dinged and desperate to dry my hands for the next play, I proceeded to wipe the mud on my fingers all over Coach Wells' clothes. Needless to say, I was taken out of the game. 

I recovered and was fortunate enough to continue with football in college.  I played quarterback at Yale with terrific teammates like my fellow St. Louisan  Mike Southworth, Kansan Eddie Lewis,  West Virginian Brian Book, Chicagoan Scottie Rooth, and the world's greatest tight end Greg Hall (to name a few). And once again, I was blessed to play for another incredible coach, Carm Cozza. Carm is the all-time winningest coach in Yale history.  More importantly, he is a total class act.  And the other coaches with whom I worked closely, offensive co-coordinator Seb LaSpina and backfield coach Richie Pont, were any player's dream.  They were such a positive force in our lives.  They kept us working and laughing all season long.  I love them both.

Long after my football-playing days were done, I experienced what many fathers in

In a heartwarming report, Dateline travels to Pampa, Texas to tell the real story of high school football, Texas-style.

by Matt Fields, Dateline producer based in Washington D.C.

It was early July. I was sitting at my computer writing a script about a murder trial in Northern California when I got the call from New York. The network was preparing for the return of NFL football on Sunday nights as well as the launch of a new drama, "Friday Night Lights," when our anchor, Stone Phillips, decided that he wanted to do a football story of his own.

It was a natural for Stone. He is, after all, a great athlete who grew up playing football and basketball and went on to have a very successful college career as Yale's quarterback during the 1970s.

I found myself tasked with finding a high school somewhere in the country that would open its doors to our cameras, giving us an all-access behind-the-scenes pass, to tell a story about high school football from the inside-out. The challenge was daunting.

I thought, "There are thousands of high schools in the country, where do I even begin?" I quickly settled on Texas, the state famous for it's obsession with the sport, especially at the high school level, thanks in large part to H.G. Bissinger's Pulitzer Prize-winning book, "Friday Night Lights."

Then, I wondered, "With many of the unflattering stereotypes portrayed in the book and the movie that followed -- coaches pressured to win at all costs, players treated like gods, towns with priorities out of whack -- would any program be willing to let us in? Would any coach want a network newsmagazine following his family and his players from their living rooms to the classroom and the locker room? Eventually, the answer would be yes.

But first, for two weeks, I scoured the Internet and worked the phones, looking for leads. I was looking for something more than football, something deeper, something with an emotional component that would resonate with just about anyone. I wanted to find a dynamic coach, kids with heart, a town with soul. I called sources from past stories, friends, friends-of-friends, sports reporters and our affiliate stations.

Finally, I came up with a list of five potential schools. Then in mid-August I hopped on a plane bound for Texas. Over the next five days, I would drive nearly 1,000 miles across the state, visiting one school each day.

My first stop, Celina. About an hours drive north of Dallas, Celina is home to some 3,000 people, all of them football crazy. The Bobcats were state champs last year, and under the charismatic and fiery leadership of Coach Butch Ford, they were showing promise of returning to state again.

The next day I drove south of Dallas to Waxahachie to visit Coach David Ream and his team. The Indians had a beautiful stadium that most small colleges would drool over and the makings for a deep playoff run in the 4A division. It just so happened that Stone has roots in Waxahachie, with a family farming operation dating back generations.

From there I headed further south to a town outside of Waco called Gatesville. Home to the Fighting Hornets, several state prisons, and a young enthusiastic coach named Michael Morgan. Morgan was looking to build his team into a perennial playoff contender in the 3A division.

On Thursday morning I drove north some 200 miles to Windthorst to meet Coach Bill Green and his son, Brad. The youngest of three sons to play under his father, Brad is the team's star QB. Coach Green had won a state championship with his two older boys and was looking to get his third with Brad. The Trojans are a 1A powerhouse, a division for some of the smallest schools in the state. The town of Windthorst has a little more than 400 people living there, most of them dairy farmers. In fact, several of the boys on the team get up well before the sun rises to milk cows before heading off to day filled with football and schoolwork.

Courtesy Wil McCarley

Matt Fields (right) with Dateline's Stone Phillips.

Over the past four days I had meet some wonderful coaches and kids. All of the schools would have been ripe for a story. But when I strolled into Pampa on Friday morning, five days into my road trip, and met Coach Andy Cavalier I knew almost immediately that my search was over. I had that gut feeling. Pampa would be the focal point of our story.

What unfolded throughout the day confirmed my feeling all the more. Andy Cavalier, with his "aw-shucks" charm and contagious smile had such a palpable geniuneness about him. I could feel his incredible passion for football and the love he had for his players. Talk about salt-of-the-earth, it was this guy. And to top it off, he had wonderful family supporting him, especially his wife Wendy and his mother, Kathy.

Of the players, I was impressed right off the bat. And all of them told me they had bought into Andy Cavalier's motto for the season, "Tueor Porro," a Latin phrase meaning to preserve and surpass. In this case, they wanted to preserve and surpass the legacy of Andy Cavalier's father, Dennis, who was the greatest football coach this town ever had. When he came to Pampa in 1987, he set a high standard for the football program and challenged every team that followed to live up to it.

Aside from football, each and every player I met with made eye contact with me and answered my questions with a "yes sir" or "no sir." This is certainly not something I find talking with most teenagers I know. They were however, typical of most teens around the country, interested in cars (pick-up trucks in this case -- it is Texas after all), girls, video games, cell phones, and food.

Perhaps what struck me the most, though, was witnessing their interaction with the team's Equipment Manager, Trent Loter. Trent has Down Syndrome and has been a part of the team since the early 1990s. These guys treated Trent like a brother: wrestling with him in the locker room, exchanging jokes and playful teases, and quizzing one another about the various high school mascots around Texas. To me, this spoke volumes about their character.

Later that evening, I attended the "Meet the Harvesters" event in the stadium. Thousands of folks poured into the stands for the chance to meet the players, coaches and cheerleaders. I had the opportunity to talk with alumni, parents and fans. Yes, they were crazy about the Harvester football team. But what I found was more than just a group of people interested in winning football games. What I found was a caring community. And the boys beneath the helmets and pads were a reflection of what mattered the most in Pampa: family, friendship and faith.

In March 2002, during a battle called Operation Anaconda in Afghanistan, a Navy Seal named Neil Roberts fell from a helicopter as it attempted to land on a mountaintop controlled by al Qaeda fighters.  "Rescue On Roberts Ridge" is the untold story of the soldiers who were sent in to find Roberts and bring him home. It airs Sunday, June 24, 7 p.m.

Stone Phillips, Dateline anchor

They can't compare to Normandy's beaches in June 1944, but the landing zones in Afghanistan's Shah i Kot valley during Operation Anaconda in March 2002 were an infantryman's nightmare, too.  Interviewing soldiers who were there, I was amazed how they even survived.  As soon as their choppers touched down,  Al Qaeda was waiting, in numbers far greater than anticipated.  The courage demonstrated by these young American soldiers, most of whom had never been in combat, is truly impressive.  Something else impressed me, as well.   

In almost every case, as we sat down for the interviews, individually or in small groups, the soldiers started off speaking haltingly about their experiences.  Surely, some of that was nerves.  Most had never been on national television before.  But as they grew more comfortable and really began to tell their stories, it became clear to me that, not only are their memories incredibly vivid, but their feelings are incredibly complex— a palpable mix of pride and pain, camaraderie and loneliness.  If I have learned anything from the soldiers I have reported on over the years-- from Beirut to Blackhawk Down to today's war on terror— it is that the real story of war is the human story.  It's a story told in reflective eyes and unrehearsed expressions, in clinched hands and stiff upper lips, in the body language of humility and exuberance, as much as any words ever spoken.  It's in the scars and the sadness, in the strength and self-knowledge, in the honor shown to fellow soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice.       

Ask World War II veterans about their experiences in battle and it's remarkable how clear their memories can be more than half a century later.  My own father was wounded in January 1945 as the Battle of the Bulge was winding down.  I have always been amazed by the clarity of his recall:  how cold the Belgian winter was, how young the German POW's were, and how costly the battle had been for both sides.  On the few occasions when my father has talked about what he and his fellow soldiers endured, I have seen in his eyes that same mixture of pride and pain.  It makes me deeply appreciative of the soldier he was and the man he is.     

I am certain that is how the children of those who fought in Operation Anaconda will feel when their fathers describe what they endured in a remote corner of Afghanistan.  Among those soldiers were 20 members of a Special Ops Quick Reaction Force decimated during an ill-fated rescue attempt. Our Dateline report, "Rescue on Roberts Ridge," focuses on two of the soldiers who survived that mission.  Someday, Ranger Specialist Oscar Escano may tell his kids how he began living his life in 15 second intervals— the time it took the enemy to reload, aim and fire the mortars that were closing in on his unit.  Someday, Oscar's captain, Nate Self, may tell his sons how his Ranger team landed on a mountaintop swarming with enemy fighters and made good on a promise to never leave a fallen comrade.  Perhaps, Nate will run down the list of those under his command who lived and died that day, and share with his children, as he did with me, remembrances of them.  This one young and fearless. That one a peak performer.  Another his life-saver.  And who could forget the klutz.  Doesn't every unit have one?  Another soldier brought to mind innocence.  And one was just perfect.

1st Platoon, Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment

When the day comes to have that talk, those children will see something in their fathers' eyes.  Something about having been there, and never being the same again. Something about the value of life, the cause of freedom, and the terrible cost of war.  I hope viewers who watch our report see a glimpse of that, as well, and come away, as I did, feeling the pride and pain that is the story of war.

This report originally aired June, 2006.

Dateline NBC received numerous e-mails when we originally broadcast 'Rescue of Roberts Ridge.' Below are a few.

I have never been so touched emotionally by a story as that of these brave young men, who fought in that battle. My heart broke to hear Nate Self tell of the men he loved and fought with, who did not come home. As a mother of a veteran, I simply wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him "job well done" You honor these men by living and telling the story of theirs and your bravery. Many tears were shed watching this program. God Bless all our men and women in Iraq. --Susan Hubby, Clovis, N.M.

"Rescue On Roberts Ridge" was an outstanding piece, deserving of an award - an incredibly well balanced treatment of the technical and emotional aspects of a military operation and its personal aftermath.  Stone, you and your team nailed that one.  Great job!  And it would be wrong if I didn't mention the subjects of the piece.  What amazing people we have defending our country. --Paul Alessandroni

Thank you for airing Robert's ridge. It shows what our boys went through and maybe people will see that. People may think the job they are doing isn't worth it but to them it is very important. I am an army mom and my son who is 19 is now with the 101 st and is in Iraq.   
I am also a member of the Soldiers Angels that send lettters and packages to soldiers. Thank you again. A proud Army mom, --Linda Russo

Please compliment Mr. Stone Phillips for his absolutely excellent report on the mission to rescue our Rangers and Special Forces folks during Operation Anaconda in the mountains of Afghanistan.  Superb reporting and sensitive interviewing of those involved.  Mainstream media often does not tell a story without trying to sell a political point of view.  This time NBC did it right.  You told the story as it happened, highlighted the heroism, and reported on what was possibly the root cause of the loss of life during that operation.  Well done. Carpe diem! --Ted McAdam, Las Vegas

Thank you Mr. Phillips for an outstanding piece of journalism.  You presented a very sensitive, thoughtful and unbiased report on our brave young heros of Operation Anaconda.  I  have twin sons and a daughter who are officers and all three were in the gulf when the war started.  If I had not had my faith to hold onto I do not think I could have survived those first few months of not knowing where my children were and if they were safe.  Since then they have all been back over there.  Two of them are over there again.  All three of my children believe in this country and are proud to be serving in the military for the freedoms this country stands. I know how Oscar Escano's mother felt.  This would not have been my first choice of a career for my children.   As a mother we want to protect our children from harm physically and emotionally. I sat spell bound for two hours and cried as I watched this program and saw the tapes of these fine young men being killed and wounded.  Nate Self was an extraordinary leader who maintained a calmness and professionalism throughout this ordeal.  All of these young men remind me that we still have heros in this mighty country.  I pray for their 'healing'.--VernaRae Oraker, Wa.

I was incredibly moved by the two hour broadcast, Roberts Ridge,  for a multiple of reasons.  Congratulations on a spectacular piece.  At each commercial break I pushed the mute button so I could reflect on the segment just passed and appreciate what your program was telling me about the bravery, expertise, and dedication these special soldiers demonstrated.   When the end came after your poignant depiction of the soldiers' lives in the aftermath, I wanted to just have a quiet moment to reflect on the mood, the feelings, the appreciation I felt for all that was portrayed in your wonderfully crafted program.  --Belinda

That was a great story on the Army Rangers tonight.  I really appreciate the effort that went into putting the pieces together to accurately reflect on what happened on that mission.  --Matt Johnson, Flower Mound, Texas

That was an amazing story on what are troops had to go thru. A very well put together feature that inspired our whole family. Is there a copy that I can obtain, and if so how can I purchase and/or receive one. --Gus Passias

Thank you for making this public and for getting at the truth of this unfortunate incident.  I thought the General was very candid and it brought out some very serious mis-steps in the organization, planning and command control.  I would like to know if this has been thoroughly reviewed and corrected.  Perhaps a footnote could follow in one of your forthcoming Dateline shows that explain how Command and Control is now set up in Afghanistan.  I really think NBC generally is a liberal, biased news organization, but stories such as this could begin to change my perception….I hope this direction continues and you cover more events of valor and honor that this nation could use right about now.  Many thanks again for doing this good work…keep it up. --Alan M., Smithfield, Va.

I just watched the special on the Rescue on Roberts Ridge.  A heartbreaking special on just what our men or  doing in this war. We see the news and know that our men ( young men)  are dying , but, you do not really realize just what they are going through until you see
shows like this one.  I am so  sorry that so many lives have to be lost. I am proud to be an American and thank all the men and women in our military who put their lives
on the line everyday for our freedom. Thank you so much for bringing these special to make us  more aware of just what is going on, and just how brave our military men and women are.  Stone Phillips is excellent.  Don't let him get away from NBC.  --Jane London, Hampton, Va.

One powerful show! Thank you for sharing this story. Please continue to follow up on the Captain and his family. Don't let the military let him down. See that he continues to get help. I don't need to know what happens. I just don't want us to forget what this man did. We, as a nation, needs to see that he gets the help he needs for as long as it takes. His family needs all of him. --Bob