April 2007 - Posts
by Chris Hansen, Dateline correspondent
I just wanted to thank you all for the overwhelming response we've received after our latest investigations. As you know, in the past few weeks we have used some of the same enterprising hidden camera investigative techniques that we use in our "To Catch A Predator" series to expose other crimes and scams. Apparently many of you yourselves have been targeted by the types of thieves we recently highlighted.
First, in "To Catch A Con Man," we tracked down some of the people behind those e-mails most of us have received offering millions, if only we'd put up some of our own cash to help a stranger in a far away land access an account only the e-mail sender knows about. I posed as an investor and turned the tables on the con men by exposing and then confronting them.
On March 27th, we aired the first part of our investigation into identity theft and credit card fraud, "To Catch An Identity Thief." Tonight, we are showing you the second part. I don't know that we've ever infiltrated a crime syndicate the way we have in this story. CONTINUED >>
by Sara James, Dateline correspondent
Jane Doe. Over my years as a reporter, I've read countless police reports about her, and always found that spare, staccato pseudonym doesn't do her justice. Is her real name Melanie or Janice or Grace? Because behind that fig leaf of anonymity, there is a real woman: A woman whose life changed in an instant, a woman who has been subjected to violence, terror and heartache.
The name and the anonymity are meant to protect, as a sort of verbal shield. But sometimes it's necessary to put down a shield to fight a battle. At least, that was the case for one woman we met. She was a woman ready to reclaim her identity. To be Jane Doe No More. A woman named Donna Palomba (pictured below).
When I met Donna at lunch some months ago, I was impressed. She's a warm, dynamic woman, successful in business and clearly devoted to her husband and children. But I was also struck by her natural reserve. She's clearly a very private person. So why choose to go public? Why tell her story on television? Why start a Web site called Jane Doe No More?
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Talk about a fantastic career: The man you'll meet on the broadcast tonight worked as a prestigious doctor, a dedicated pastor, a Red Cross fundraiser.
But his resume was most remarkable for what wasn't on it: one ounce of truth.
What this man really was was the ultimate con artist -- a guy who's played more roles than DeNiro. You'll be surprised at who fell for his tricks. The question is: Will you?
Josh Mankiewicz brings us the tall tale of "The Great Pretender."
Join us Dateline Tuesday, April 24, 8 p.m./7 C.
by Stone Phillips, Dateline anchor
When Seung-Hui Cho mailed his "multimedia manifesto" to NBC News, he clearly was hoping that at least some of what he sent would find its way onto the airwaves. It did. And we entered a new era of crime coverage and a minefield of potential media manipulation.
Clearly, Cho knew his rampage would be worthy of national news coverage. Why else would he send his diatribe to NBC headquarters in New York? By including photographs of himself with his last words and testament he also believed he could control the images emblazoned forever in the public's mind.
There is no question in my mind that NBC News made the right decision to inform the public about the package it received-- when it was sent and the content it contained. I also believe that when it comes to broadcasting the actual material less is more. Cho's words and demeanor provide some insight into his troubled mind, notably his glowing references to the Columbine killers. But his ranting warrants only the most limited airtime, lest we reward him with a platform to spew his poison and a higher place in the pantheon of mass murderers. This was not an interview or cross-examination. There was no opportunity to probe or challenge Cho in a way that might have yielded greater insights to aid the healing process or prevent future acts of madness. This was Cho's parting shot to the world he loathed, a dictated legacy left for us to disseminate. In such a case, the briefest of soundbites suffice.
As disturbing as they are, I also see some news value in the photographs of Cho brandishing weapons, pointing a gun straight into the camera and striking movie poster poses. CONTINUED >>
by Keith Morrison, Dateline correspondent
To explore the story of Eric Volz is to take a walk in a nightmare. Volz is the young American accused, charged and convicted of murdering his ex-girlfriend, the beautiful Doris, the jewel of San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua.
We arrived in that poor but truly lovely country in the midst of a media war -- the Nicaraguan media (or at least, the main national tabloid paper), which printed giant headlines declaring Volz's guilt, versus a growing U.S.-based Internet campaign launched by friends and family in an effort to show he was subjected to an obscene perversion of justice.
"Don't misunderstand," Nicaraguans told us, "We're not anti-American. But we don't want that rich 'gringo' to avoid paying for his crime."
The basic facts are these: Eric, an ambitious young American, gets involved in San Juan's booming real estate market. He starts a magazine, 'El Puente,' (the bridge), whose stated mission is to encourage responsible development in Central America. He takes up with the prettiest girl in town, Doris, who is soon in his company at all hours of the night and day.
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by Chris Hansen, Dateline correspondent
36 days ago, Cho Seung-Hui bought a gun at a shop in Roanoke, Virginia, a Glock 19. I spoke with the owner of the Roanoke firearms Tusday afternoon, who told me that it was a “typical sale.”
Cho, who was a resident alien, had three forms of ID, so he produced a Va. driver’s license that established residency, a checkbook that matched, and his INS card. The gun shop did a background check, and Cho cleared the state police and federal computers. He was able to take the gun home with him after paying for it with a credit card.
The owner says Cho didn’t make employees suspicious, that he seemed like a typical clean-cut college kid.
“I can’t even begin to describe how I feel,” says John, the owner. “One death would have been to many. This is horrible.”
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by Hoda Kotb, Dateline correspodent and Virginia Tech graduate
My report on “Dateline” tonight is about the virtual embrace the world has been giving Virginia Tech – online, by loving friends and sympathetic strangers.
It warmed up my heart and my keyboard hearing from all of you. I received dozens of emails from old college friends, and hundreds of blog responses from my post/piece on “Dateline” last night.
As Stone said on tonight’s broadcast, tragedies of this magnitude have a way of making the world a very small place. With the help of the Internet in times like this, the world does indeed become a village.
Click here to watch video of Hoda's report.
by Hoda Kotb, Dateline correspondent and Virginia Tech graduate
Virginia Tech is where went to college, it’s where my brother went to college, it’s where my sister went to college. We all went there and the decision was a no-brainer. There wasn’t another school in the country we wanted to go to.
Today, I’m wearing orange, one of Virginia Tech’s colors. The school colors are actually maroon and orange. I remember in college, and we didn’t love the color scheme— we thought the two colors clashed. Today, there is not another color I would rather be wearing.
When most people think of Virginia Tech, the very first thing that comes into mind is sports: football and basketball. All you would see during Virginia Tech’s football season was a sea of maroon and orange. You would hear the chant in the crowd. I can still hear it in my head, “Hokie, hokie, hokie high...Tech, Tech V-P-I.”
When you go to Tech, it’s in your blood. I think of the kind of camaraderie and the pride -- they call it “hokie pride.” It sounds corny, but it is how proud the students are of their school.
I never imagined that this is the way Virginia Tech would likely go down in history. CONTINUED >>
by Josh Mankiewicz, Dateline correspondent
Don Imus is gone. But will the kind of language that got him fired disappear with him? Don’t bet on it. Rap and hip-hop artists routinely use many of those same words -- and worse -- all while depicting women as little more than sex partners.
Shock radio is alive and well. Howard stern’s contract is worth $500 million. .
And more than a week after the debate started over where funny ends and offensive begins, comedians at the Comedy Union in Los Angeles were finding that line—and erasing it. So is Imus’ firing the end of this debate? Or just the beginning?
Jasmyne Cannick writes and blogs about racial and civil rights issues. And about the long running battle by black Americans against degrading themes in music and popular culture.
Jasmyne Cannick: It’s easy to go after the Imuses. The challenge now is to go after the people in your own community. There’s not a day that I get up and get in my car that I don’t pass by someone who is blaring lyrics of “ho,” b- words, n-words. Often times it’s African-American women who are listening to these lyrics as well.
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by Lee Kamlet, Dateline producer
Just before Labor Day last summer, I flew to Albuquerque NM, expecting to attend a court hearing which might shed some light on one of the worst crime sprees in the city's history.
Five people had been killed on the same day in August 2005. The first shooting was in the early morning. A state transportation department worker was killed outside of a maintenance garage on the edge of town. Later that afternoon, on the opposite side of the city, two young men were killed at the motorcycle shop where they worked. Then in the late evening, two police officers who were on what police say was a routine assignment, were killed in a gun battle just on the outskirts of downtown.
The killings seemed random. There was no obvious link between the victims, their locations, or the circumstances under which they were killed. Police were busy all day chasing down plausible suspects. Then, shortly after the two officers were shot, police say they put together the clues they had been assembling from the various crimes scenes, and discovered that the shootings were linked after all, committed by one man. His name is John Hyde.
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With more than a million cars being stolen each year-- one every 30 seconds according to experts-- insurance rates are rising in this country because this lucrative crime has proven to be difficult for investigators to solve.
In attempt to get stolen cars back to the owners and put a dent into their community's auto theft rate, the Houston Police Department set up a fencing operation in which undercover policeman pose as criminals who buy cars and other contraband.
They allowed "Dateline" to come along and capture it all on their hidden cameras. "To Catch a Car Thief," airing on Tuesday, April 10 (8:00 pm/et), offers viewers a rare glimpse into the world of undercover cops with its dangers and disappointments, risks and rewards.
Victoria Corderi goes undercover with the Houston Police Department and then confronts the men caught in fencing operation.
Airs tonight, April 10, Dateline NBC at 8 p.m./7 C. For a list of cars most likely stolen, click here. For some tips on how to protect yourself and your vehicle, click here.
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?
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