We recently completed a recruitment video for Vanderbilt that I’m especially proud of. For starters, it has some cool elements, like a hospital rooftop scene with the helicopter trauma unit. We shot the video entirely on the Canon 5D Mark II using the Glidetrack portable dolly and a Steadicam. Most of those “high production” shots are in the beginning and the middle of the video. But for me, the most compelling footage was shot off-the-shoulder (by myself, thank you) during a ceremony at the school called “Match Day.”

I attended the gathering on a whim, really, not knowing exactly how it would fit into the overall piece. I figured, at the very least, it would be good practice for me since I’d never shot on the 5D myself. Plus, I wondered how the camera would do with documentary-style shooting since the depth-of-field is so terrifyingly shallow.

Match Day is more exciting than it sounds. Every year, at medical schools across the country, graduating students find out — at the same appointed hour — where they will be doing their residencies. No one knows for sure until that moment if the school they picked, in return, chose them. Every school does it differently, but at Vanderbilt it is positively theatrical: students are called forward one by one, handed a slip of paper, and placed before a microphone to announce their match to an assembled audience of peers, family, and faculty.

By the time I left I knew I had something special, but I still had no idea how it would fit into the video. Thing was, I just felt the moments I captured spoke so much more forcefully — and convincingly — than any prepared sound bite. I’m certain the final edit surprised our client because the entire back-end had almost no talking heads; it was just the ceremony as it unfolded. But I have to say, as I watch the piece for the 500th time, it makes even me want to apply to med school.

People often ask me what was my favorite story to cover when I was a reporter. I always stumble at that question. There were so many of them — literally, thousands of stories. There was the one about the runaway camel and the hapless sheriff’s deputy sent to catch it. And the one about the one-legged man who hiked the Appalachian Trail.

In my seven years in front of the camera, I covered countless police stand-offs and court cases, witnessed dozens of perp walks, and sat through more city council meetings than I care to remember. But what I loved most, as I look back, were the stories about people who never sent press releases. They were folks I met on the street who almost never understood why I would want to follow them around with a camera. Most would indulge me, but they couldn’t see — until they watched the finished story — what was newsworthy about their lives. I guess sometimes it takes someone on the outside, someone with a little perspective, to connect the dots for us. We can all trace in our own lives what storytellers call a narrative arc. It’s just a matter of getting far enough away to perceive its outline.

I came to see my feature stories as gifts to the uncelebrated who, for the most part, had spent their lives in obscurity. Which brings me to my favorite story. I’ve given this a lot of thought. It’s perhaps not the most exciting, or technically spectacular, but it challenges me. It makes me want to live outside of myself. To look for ways to serve other people. And if by some chance my viewers back in 2007 felt the same way when it aired, then it might have been the most important story I ever reported as well.

I hope you enjoy Mailman Jack.

Awards aren’t everything, of course, but it was fun to find out earlier this week that we’d won a Silver Telly for a video we produced for my friend Jeremy Cowart. Last year he came up with a great idea he called “Help Portrait” which caught on, literally, all over the world. His idea grew into a movement that attracted international media attention and will probably grow even more when he does it again this year. Go check out his website here, and if you still have time, watch the video too! Enjoy.

Every once in a while we’ll bring along an extra camera on a shoot to capture the mayhem behind-the-scenes. Sure, everything looks glossy in the final product, but the real drama is played out just off-camera, as camera techs and grips are frantically setting up for the next shot so we can stay on schedule. But, you know, these shoots are a lot of fun, too, especially when you have crews like mine who enjoy a good 10-hour challenge. One day I’m gonna pitch a reality show on the making of a reality show.