From the Publisher

By Elizabeth P. Valk

Good reporting is seldom easy or comfortable. But for correspondent Ted Gup, getting to the bottom of this week's BUSINESS story about life and hard times in a West Virginia coal community was especially unsettling. "The first time I entered a low-seam coal mine was one of the most claustrophobic experiences of my life," says Gup. "You lie on your back on a metal sled, and the distance between the floor and ceiling is never greater than 40 inches. You're in utter darkness -- except for the light on your hard hat. You eat your lunch on your back with your pail on your belly. Twenty-four hours after you get out, the insides of your nostrils are still black with dust."

For Gup, an investigative reporter with a taste for hands-on journalism, there was no question that to write about coal miners he would have to go into the mines. Two years ago, he logged 35,000 miles following the trail of illicit ivory for a cover story about the endangered elephant. Last year he spent 10 days with loggers in the forests of Oregon to cover the battle over the spotted owl. "If a story is worth doing, it's worth doing thoroughly," he says. "I find that whatever truth there is emerges not in the second or third interview, but well down the line."

- All told, Gup spent a month in Logan County, W. Va., a microcosm for hundreds of company towns built around ailing industries. "It's a subtle story," says senior editor Stephen Koepp. "It's about how these people became dependent on, almost addicted to, a way of life." It's also a story about cheating and corruption, practices that Gup experienced firsthand. One day a mine tour he had been promised was abruptly canceled. Reason given: a federal agent was inspecting the facilities, although there was no inspector there. Several witnesses told Gup the real reason was that safety equipment hastily erected for an earlier inspection had been removed. Later, another mine was hit with an unscheduled inspection the day after Gup visited -- which sent a warning, intended or not, to other mine operators to keep TIME out. "They're more accustomed to dealing with reporters who call from Washington," Gup says. "It's harder to control us when we're in the mines." Which is precisely why a good reporter insists on going in.