The early fall of 2004 was a hurricane season unlike any in Florida’s history. In a span of six weeks, four hurricanes rocked the state, causing millions of dollars worth of damage and killing dozens. The South Florida Sun-Sentinel , the largest newspaper serving Broward and Palm Beach Counties, closely tracked the storms’ approach, arrival, and aftermath. No sooner had the first storms cleared than an investigative reporter was assigned to look into their impact. It was not long before an intriguing story began to emerge.

The first break on the hurricanes story came in mid-September from a map on the website of the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA)—the federal agency charged with aiding disaster victims in the United States. Examining the map, which illustrated the density of disaster aid applications throughout Florida, Database Editor John Maines noticed with surprise that Miami-Dade County, which had largely escaped the storms’ impact, nonetheless claimed a disproportionate share of applications. Armed with this small observation, the Sun-Sentinel set out to answer one question: Why?

Sun-Sentinel Managing Editor Sharon Rosenhause had long placed a high priority on investigative work. She was willing to invest significant resources in what was often time-consuming and painstaking research. As the story Maines had stumbled across grew, Rosenhause assigned additional staff to cover it. The team quickly expanded to three reporters plus, when he arrived in early October, newly hired veteran investigative reporter and editor Joe Demma , who was to lead the paper’s investigative projects.

The reporters had come to suspect that large sums of FEMA disaster relief money had gone to undeserving recipients. But confirming that suspicion proved arduous. FEMA repeatedly denied Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests—and even those it honored took months to yield any useful data. So the four-person team decided to look elsewhere for answers. They canvassed apartment complexes, analyzed databases, and scoured public records. Their reporting took them into poor and often dangerous Miami-Dade neighborhoods. They spent hundreds of hours poring over charts and superimposing maps tracking diverse events.

Their research paid off, and what had been a small discrepancy grew into a significant regional story: a series of articles which chronicled fraud by FEMA aid recipients, and complicit FEMA inspectors with criminal backgrounds. In spring 2005, Congress took notice, and launched hearings into FEMA’s disaster management record in Florida. By July 2005, the FEMA story had snowballed beyond what the Sun-Sentinel had ever imagined.

But now it threatened to grow beyond their control. Several months after starting its investigation, the team had uncovered evidence—based on their reporting and tips from readers of their earlier articles—that the kind of fraud it had exposed in Florida was in fact a nationwide phenomenon. Confirming those tips was the logical next step for the investigative team. But a national story would be an expensive undertaking. To be credible, it required legwork in several cities. That meant airfares, hotels, and other expenses for up to four people.

The Sun-Sentinel, like papers around the country, was shifting its focus to more local reporting. Was a national story something it should pursue? Was that a responsible discharge of its mandate to serve the citizens of southern Florida? Moreover, in other cities the reporters would not have the kind of tested and reliable sources they enjoyed in their local area. They were also well aware that some of their best tips came from disaffected FEMA employees. Was that enough to take on a major investigation of national dimensions? No matter what, the effort would be time-consuming and labor intensive. Might not the community be better off if the team focused on matters closer to home? Managing Editor Rosenhause, along with Demma and his team, had a tough call to make.