ad info

Editions | myCNN | Video | Audio | Headline News Brief | Feedback  





Bush signs order opening 'faith-based' charity office for business

Rescues continue 4 days after devastating India earthquake

DaimlerChrysler employees join rapidly swelling ranks of laid-off U.S. workers

Disney's is a goner


4:30pm ET, 4/16









CNN Websites
Networks image

Newsroom/World View

NEWSROOM for February 22, 2001

Aired February 22, 2001 - 4:30 a.m. ET


ANNOUNCER: Seen in classrooms the world over, this is CNN NEWSROOM.

SHELLEY WALCOTT, CO-HOST: From the CNN Center in Atlanta, this is CNN NEWSROOM. Welcome. I'm Shelley Walcott. And here's what's ahead.

In today's news, a possible plan to save Napster as some other Web-savvy students move on to the film frontier.

Next, in "Science Desk," an endangered species is successfully cloned. But there's no happy ending to this story.

From advances in science to run-of-the-mill fun, "Worldview" checks out the worldwide appeal of bowling and bowling shoes.

Then, in "Chronicle," a profile for black history. We'll meet one of the most prominent doctors in America.

Internet music-swapping service Napster offers a $1 billion settlement to record labels. And in return, Napster wants the recording industry to drop a copyright infringement lawsuit against the site. It remains to be seen if the offer will be accepted, but the initial reaction was negative.

Hoping to keep its business afloat, Napster has laid out a major proposal. The free Internet service says it will make annual payments to record labels for the next five years if they drop their copyright infringement lawsuit.

Under the proposed deal, Napster would pay Sony, Warner, BMG, EMI and Universal $150 million each year for the next five years. The service would give independent labels $50 million in each of those five years. Napster plans to pay the record companies by reinventing itself as a subscription service. Monthly fees would be between $2.95 and $9.95. The offer was announced a week after a federal appeals court said the music industry would almost certainly win its lawsuit against Napster.

Will the recording industry, with victory in sight, be swayed by a billion dollars? An industry trade group said Napster should pursue solutions in court, not the media.

Well, whether it's music, textbooks or literature, copying someone else's work without payment or permission infringes upon the creator's rights. Taking someone's property, whether tangible like a CD or intangible like the songs on it, is stealing.

Intellectual property refers to creations of the mind. Inventions, literary works, symbols, names, images and designs used in commerce all fall into that category.

As our Jason Bellini tells us, it's becoming difficult for the entertainment industry to protect such work.


JASON BELLINI, CNN CORRESPONDENT (voice-over): It's a freeloader's fantasy. Films like "Mission Impossible 2" sold on DVD in stores for about $25 go from Internet to computer to projection screen, no money spent.

SCOTT FLANAGAN, AGE 19: It's just like going to Blockbuster without the wallet, without the lines and without having to pay.

BELLIINI: College students with high-speed connections to the Internet go to sites where they can find, trade and download movies.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: I am going to take a look at what this guy has.

BELLIINI: Some downloads have a higher quality picture than store-bought VHS recordings.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Some of them come out before they release them at theaters.

BELLIINI: Example: a flawless copy of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," a film only released to most theaters in January.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: There's a lot of groups out there that do this. And they've got kind of networks set up. You know, the person that works in a movie theater, they can rip it the day it comes out.

J.P. COUGHLIN, AGE 19: The different movie groups on the Internet kind of fight for a reputation of who can get out the movie the quickest with the best quality.

BELLIINI: The movie business, which generates more than $7 billion a year in ticket sales alone, is not amused. The industry understands the threat.

KEN JACOBSEN, MOTION PICTURE ASSN. OF AMERICA: The Napster lawsuit showed how pervasive the stealing of music was on the Internet. Clearly, a music file is much smaller than a movie file, so it's much more easy to do and you need less bandwidth. College campuses, because they have the huge bandwidth, allow students to, in fact, engage in transferring our movies.

ANDREW FRANK, TECHNOLOGY CONSULTANT: Our preliminary findings are that there are somewhere in the neighborhood of 350,000 to 400,000 feature-length films being downloaded per day, which is about double what we saw when we started tracking this about 18 months ago.

BELLINI (on camera): The Napster downloadable music craze began in college dorms. It bubbled beneath the surface among the techno- savvy before the recording industry decided to declare war on Internet copyright violations.

(voice-over): But students know that technology won't be underground for long.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Napster got in trouble, and now everybody knows about it.

BELLIINI: Especially as more homes get high-speed Net hookups. And they say the technology may be almost invincible.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: That's the thing about the new services out there, is they're all peer-to-peer connections. So there is no central server. There is no company that's running it. It's like the war on drugs can't be won, like a war on the Internet can't really be won.

BELLIINI: On this point, the Motion Picture Association agrees.

JACOBSEN: We don't approve of what they do, but clearly, bringing criminal action against them may be difficult.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: It's not like going into a store and stealing a movie or a DVD, for the fact that there is nothing physical that's stolen.

BELLINI: But the movie industry is quick to point out downloading for free is theft. Understanding a moral argument alone is unlikely to stop the online trading. The studios are now racing to offer net content themselves.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: We have to negotiate with this guy.

BELLINI: The goal: to convince the public it's better to buy online than get it for free.

Jason Bellini, CNN NEWSROOM, Atlanta.


WALCOTT: You're probably familiar with the biblical figure Noah, who, as the story goes, built an ark and put two of each kind of animal inside. The reason? To save them from the floods, and thus from extinction.

Recently, another "Noah," a cloned ox, demonstrated a modern-day method of potentially saving animals, this time for species that are endangered.

Ann Kellan reports on scientific advances aimed at keeping these rare animals afloat.


ANN KELLAN, CNN SCIENCE CORRESPONDENT (voice-over): Noah, born by C-section on a farm near Sioux City, Iowa, is the world's first cloned endangered species.

DR. ROBERT LANZA, ADVANCED CELL TECHNOLOGY: So we were all terribly excited when he was born. He was born, you know, totally alive, healthy. He was kicking around, bellowing. I mean, he was absolutely adorable, there with his big blue eyes, his ears twitching. He was just like a little baby reindeer.

KELLAN: Though his birth was a success, Noah died two days later of dysentery. Researchers do not link that infection to the cloning.

Noah was a gaur, a wild ox native to Southeast Asia and India. There are only about 30,000 left in the world.

LANZA: Despite this setback, you know, we feel that Noah's birth does usher in a new era for conservation biology. We still certainly have a long way to go. But as this new technology evolves, we believe that it has the potential to rescue dozens of species teetering on the verge of extinction.

KELLAN: As a clone, Noah was an exact duplicate of a gaur that died eight years ago. Its skin cells had been frozen and stored in a so-called "frozen zoo," where cells of other endangered and extinct species are kept.

Scientists at Advanced Cell Technology took the DNA from one of those cells, inserted it into the egg cell of a cow, then implanted it in this cow, Bessie, Noah's surrogate mother. Bessie is doing fine. Her work might not be done.

PHILIP DAMIANI, ADVANCED CELL TECHNOLOGY: And, actually, we're thinking of putting another embryo back into Bessie because of the fact that she did carry this calf to term.

KELLAN: Even though Noah didn't survive, scientists do consider the pregnancy and birth a success and hope this breakthrough will lead to cloning other species, like pandas or cheetahs.

Ann Kellan, CNN, Atlanta.


WALCOTT: In "Worldview" today, shopping and sports. We'll go to Japan to browse the stores. And we head to the bowling alley, where we meet up with our own Tom Haynes. He looks like he's having a ball.

TOM HAYNES, CO-HOST: I can't tell you the last time I went bowling, but I've got my shoes, I've got my ball, and I'm ready to give it a try.

Bowling's a sport enjoyed by people around the world. In fact, did you know that bowling began in ancient Germany? It became popular in 14th century Europe and was brought to the United States by the Dutch in the 17th century.

The idea is pretty simple: knock down the 10 pins at the end of the alley.

OK, that was luck because I was going to say I have great style, but I can't seem to knock down any pins. But I got a strike!

Speaking of style, Stacey Wilkins has this report on bowling shoes.


STACEY WILKINS, CNN CORRESPONDENT (voice-over): Bowlers are making a strike for fall fashion. Bowling shoes have become the hippest must-have this season.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Our sales have been very brisk, brisk, brisk.

WILKINS: You won't find many fashion gurus hanging out at bowling alleys. The sport doesn't exactly attract people known for their sartorial sense. But that's changing.


ANNOUNCER: Welcome to MTV's "Rock 'n' Jock Bowling Bash."


WILKINS: MTV is getting teenagers to hit the lanes. And popular Texas band Lil' Brian and the Zydeco Travelers jam inside alleys across the United States.

There's a retro appeal to the shoes. Shoppers today are trying to emulate the 1950s vintage bowling look. But real bowlers say they just don't get the trend.

LEWIS CLEMONS III, BOWLER: No, I wouldn't wear my shoes outside because if you wear your shoes outside, the rocks and gravel outside would tear up the surface of the bottom of your bowling shoes.

WILKINS (on camera): But not just any bowling shoe will do. New styles are made by top designers and cost far more than the average alley shoe.

(voice-over): Italian designer Prada has created a retro shoe that sells for about $330.



ALAN REED, VOICE ACTOR: Yabba dabba doo!


WILKINS: Retailers feel confident this fad will take bowling fashion out of the Stone Age and into the fast lane.

Stacey Wilkins, CNN, Atlanta.


HAYNES: Come on, ball, I'm ready for another one.

All right, here we go. A strike on this one. You ready?


This is harder than it looks. I'm already sore and I've only been bowling five minutes now. But you know what? Strikes and spares all over the place. A perfect score is 300 and I'm already on my way.

OK, now for some bowling trivia. A bowling ball has three holes and is usually made of polyester with a cork center. A regulation alley is 60 feet or 18.3 meters from the foul line to the head pin. A strike is when you knock down all 10 pins on your first try, which I've been doing plenty of. And a spare is when you knock down all 10 pins in just two tries.

So how great is bowling? Well, I'm here with Brittany and Tad from North Springs High School here in Atlanta, Georgia.

Guys, what's so cool about this sport, anyway?

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: I love it. I think it's a lot of fun. You know, I usually just do it on the weekends just with my friends, you know, something to do. But it's great. And we come every Tuesday and Thursday and we get the balls. It's fun.

HAYNES: Tad, why is bowling so cool?

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: It's a real stress reliever. You just come out here and have a good time. I'm not as good as Brittany, but, you know, I'm pretty good, though. I got skills too.

HAYNES: And speaking of good, what's the secret?

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: I just do it. I really, you know, I'm a natural.

HAYNES: You just get lucky, right? How many strikes? How many spares?

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: I had three strikes and one spare.

HAYNES: Tad, what's the secret of being a good bowler?

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: It's just all in the head. It's mentality. Like, I don't walk up to it like, you know, people roll up and everything. I just stand at the lane and go, and that's my secret.

HAYNES: OK, you want to show us what you've got?


HAYNES: Strike! High-five me!

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: That's amazing.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Way to go, Brittany!

WALCOTT: We turn from sports to something that scores big on my list: shopping. In Japan, it seems shopping is almost an endurance activity. In fact, outlet malls are giving new meaning to the phrase, "shop till you drop.

Marina Kamimura reports on what's motivating tens of thousands of Japanese to sometimes drive for hours just to do their shopping.


MARINA KAMIMURA, CNN TOKYO BUREAU CHIEF (voice-over): Tucked away in this scenic countryside west of Tokyo, a slice of American suburbia: 78 outlet stores vying for shopaholics and those just looking for a taste of America.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE (through translator): I like shopping. But I also came here because it's trendy.

KAMIMURA (on camera): This outlet mall is just one of a handful that has sprung up in Japan over the last couple of years, defying the naysayers who said that the concept would never catch in Japan.

(voice-over): Analysts say a steep fall in real estate prices is allowing the outlets to get off the ground. But they say it's lean economic times and changing lifestyles that are bringing in the crowds.

MICHAEL MORIZUMI, UBS WARBURG: Back during the bubble, people had plenty of money to spend. They could go to the downtown Ginza and they could go to the local brand shop and pay retail price without any discount. However, the economic conditions being much worse now is forcing people to focus more on value.

KAMIMURA: Far from losing their penchant for designer brands, image-conscious Japanese say they're just getting smarter.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE (through translator): We grew up in a period when everyone aspired to have brand-name products. If we can buy stuff for less, it makes us happy.

KAMIMURA: Even retailers from Tokyo's chic Ginza shopping district are giving the malls a try.

FUMIHIKO SAKAMOTO, TASAKI SHINJU (through translator): We can attract a whole new set of customers just by being here.

KAMIMURA: But not everyone's enamored with the idea. As with most American adaptations, this outlet mall has its Japanese twists. "In Hawaii," there are fewer people and there's more variety," says this shopper. "Here in Japan, there are too many people and that tires us."

But that doesn't deter the curious or the shopping diehards. Stories like this are fairly common.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE (through translator): We left Narita at 7:00 a.m. I myself left home at 5:30. We didn't arrive here until 2:00 p.m. and are already leaving at 4:00.

KAMIMURA: Now that's what you call power shopping.

Marina Kamimura, CNN, Tokyo.


WALCOTT: We continue our special look at Black History Month now with one African American's remarkable story. Dr. Louis Sullivan emerged from a humble childhood to the seat of prominence in Washington, D.C. He now heads a medical school quickly growing in size and reputation.

Dr. Sullivan sat down with our Joel Hochmuth to reveal some of the secrets of his success.



UNIDENTIFIED MALE: But I take this obligation freely.



JOEL HOCHMUTH, CNN CORRESPONDENT (voice-over): This was the moment Louis Sullivan became one of the most prominent doctors in all of America. Twelve years ago, he was sworn in as secretary of health and human services in the former Bush administration.

DR. LOUIS SULLIVAN, PRESIDENT, MOREHOUSE SCHOOL OF MEDICINE: Those were exciting years, those were fulfilling years. It was a great opportunity for service that I really am grateful to have had.

GEORGE H.W. BUSH, FORMER U.S. PRESIDENT: He was unbelievably forward looking. He had a lot of tough decisions. That department is probably the biggest one in the government, and yet he ran it with quiet confidence and great adherence to principal.

HOCHMUTH: Today, Sullivan is once again president of Atlanta's Morehouse School of Medicine, the post he held when Bush tapped him for his Cabinet. Over the years they've remained friends. The Bushes are enthusiastic supporters of the med school.

SULLIVAN: Thank you very much, Mr. President.

BUSH: This man is unique. You can't say no to the guy. I mean, he'd twist your arm right out of the rotor cuff, you know what I mean? And he's good.

HOCHMUTH (on camera): Do you ever miss those days of being on the Cabinet?

SULLIVAN: Believe it or not, I don't. Because as exciting as that was, I believe that what I'm doing now, in working to develop the Morehouse School of Medicine and assure its sound future.

HOCHMUTH (voice-over): Whether serving at the highest levels of government or the highest levels of academia, his world today is a far cry from the world in which he was raised.

Sullivan was born in 1933 during the depths of the Great Depression. He spent much of his childhood in the small Georgia town of Blakely during the thick of racial segregation in the South.

SULLIVAN: Growing up, this was still a time lynchings were occurring in that area. And my father, also being an undertaker, was aware of that. The chief of police in the town, we were very much aware that he didn't care for the Sullivans. There were times, frankly, that we received word that the Klan, meaning the Klu Klux Klan, was going to ride through the black section of town that night.

Those were years where we were really walking on pins and needles because we knew that we were not welcome and we were not safe.

HOCHMUTH: Sullivan says he can remember wanting to become a doctor from a very young age. Not once, though, did racial prejudice stand in the way of his goal.

SULLIVAN: What my parents instilled in my brother and myself was the attitude, you will succeed in spite of that. Don't let other people limit you in what you want to do or in your aspirations because we need to have leadership in our community.

HOCHMUTH: Sullivan's parents sent him and his brother to Atlanta's Booker T. Washington High School where they'd get a better education than in the segregated schools back home.

We brought Dr. Sullivan back for a visit.

SULLIVAN: There I am right there.

HOCHMUTH (on camera): Right there?

SULLIVAN: Yearbook staff, yes, right.

HOCHMUTH: You kind of look the same there.

SULLIVAN: Yes, right, amazing.

HOCHMUTH: A little more hair? SULLIVAN: Yes, a little bit more hair then, yes.

HOCHMUTH (voice-over): Sullivan was president of the senior class of 1950 and graduated with highest honors.

SULLIVAN: Yes, Lucille Hunt (ph), see, she was one of -- the co- valedictorian. She was one, Lucille Hunt, and Willie Francis Kelsey (ph) right here. She was the other. So they were No. 1, tied, and then I was No. 2 in the class.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: OK, so you were still valedictorian.


HOCHMUTH (on camera): So what'd you have to do to get highest honor?

SULLIVAN: Work like hell, what do you think?


It's really like walking back in time, you know, 50 years. Right.

HOCHMUTH: Did you have a favorite teacher?

SULLIVAN: Oh, I had lots of favorite teachers. Barbara Woods (ph) was my favorite teacher in ninth grade. X.L. Neal (ph) was my favorite teacher in tenth grade. I really revered my teachers. They were very dedicated to all of us.

HOCHMUTH: I take it they all encouraged you. I mean, nobody discouraged you from being a doctor.

SULLIVAN: No, no, they all were very supportive of me, really were very much boosters and supporters and inspired us; not only me, but my classmates as well.

HOCHMUTH: Dr. Sullivan's achievement at Washington High was a sign of things to come. He graduated magna cum laude from nearby Morehouse College, then finished third in his class in med school at Boston University. From there, his career took off as a researcher, professor and administrator in the field of hematology in the 60s and 70s. But ironically, he never fulfilled his childhood dream to become a local family doctor.

SULLIVAN: We can reach our goal of becoming one of the leading institutions in the nation.

HOCHMUTH (voice-over): That's one reason Sullivan helped found Morehouse School of Medicine in the late '70s and came back following his years in the Bush administration.

SULLIVAN: I recognized there was still a great shortage of minorities in the health -- in medicine and the other health professions. So having the opportunity to do something much more significant in addressing that really was important. And in one sense, it may have been my way of eventually getting back to that small town as a doctor through my students.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: What's the likelihood of an offspring inheriting the disorder?

HOCHMUTH: The Morehouse mission is to train doctors for primary care in underserved communities. Thanks to Sullivan's leadership, a higher percentage of graduates from Morehouse pursue careers in general practice than from any other med school in the country.

BARBARA BUSH, FORMER FIRST LADY: The Morehouse goal and aim is one of really a thousand points of light. What he's done is unbelievable. Lou Sullivan really is a great lesson for all of us, that you just -- if you have energy and you believe in something, you can get it done. And Lou Sullivan has.

HOCHMUTH: Of course, with all the accolades and all the accomplishments and all the recognition under his belt, there's just one question left.

(on camera): Ever think about retiring?


SULLIVAN: Well, there's no question that the day will come, that I will certainly be stepping out of this position, because I think it is important for institutions to have a change in leadership with new perspectives, new energy, et cetera, and that will happen here. But so far as me retiring, no, I'm going to do something else.


WALCOTT: Well, with Dr. Sullivan's leadership at Morehouse, it's paying off in a big way around the country. In its 25-year history, the med school has turned out almost 370 doctors who've gone to work in primary care, many in underserved communities.

Our Joel Hochmuth continues now with the story of one of those doctors who found a need, if not a paycheck, in a small town in Alabama.


HOCHMUTH (voice-over): Bayou La Batre, Alabama is one of those places where it's a lot easier to make a pretty post card than to make a living. This shrimping town along the Gulf Coast is home to about 2,500 people, many earning not much more than minimum wage.

It's no wonder there's only one private doctor in town. Her name, Regina Benjamin (ph).

(on camera): You could go just about anywhere you wanted to. Why do you stay here?

REGINA BENJAMIN, PHYSICIAN: This is where I want to be, you know. I am where I want to be. Actually, it's -- Bayou La Batre is a great community and people seem to appreciate me. They treat me like family and it's -- I get more out of it than I think they do.

BILL MENTON, FORMER POLICE CHIEF, BAYOU LA BATRE, ALABAMA: You hate to be dramatizing this thing, but it could save a life to have a doctor, immediate care for injuries or just normal elderly. There's no bus service from here to Mobile, which is 25 miles away.

HOCHMUTH (voice-over): Benjamin operates out of her own clinic, a double-wide trailer, really. She grew up near here and came back just about 14 years ago after finishing med school at Morehouse and the University of Alabama, and then her residency. Her patients have learned to appreciate her firm yet gentle manner.

BENJAMIN: You need to stop smoking or you ain't going to have no heart. Worry about that knee later.

JAMES FRAZIER, PATIENT: She's a fine doctor, amazing. She's the best in the world. She's just like family down here.

HOCHMUTH: Benjamin says her practice here fills a need. Many of the townspeople make too much to qualify for Medicaid, but not enough to pay for medical insurance.

(on camera): Do you ever turn anybody away because they can't pay?

BENJAMIN: No. There's no way we could do that. People know that if they come and see us, we'll -- and they need us, we'll see them regardless. And they try to pay. They pay what they can. They pay a few dollars a month or whatever they can. People don't want free handouts, they want to pay their way.

HOCHMUTH: How much more could you be making if you were in some other community somewhere? Twice as much? Three times as much? Four times as much?

BENJAMIN: Well, a multiple of zero is zero, so it doesn't matter.

HOCHMUTH: Now, if you're wondering how Dr. Benjamin makes a living, that's a good question. After all, her clinic has never turned a profit. She says when shrimping is good, her patients pay. When it's not so good, well, that's a different story. So to fill in the gaps, she moonlights. Currently, she's also an administrator at a nearby med school. Still, her heart is with her patients here in Bayou La Batre.

BENJAMIN: Let me listen to your heart.

HOCHMUTH (voice-over): And she'll do whatever it takes to see them, including house calls.


BENJAMIN: Yes, I can find it. I'm sure it's there. You got a big heart.

HOCHMUTH: On this day, she's checking up on 84-year-old Morgan Davis, who lost both legs to complications from diabetes. This visit is as much for the family as for the patient.

BENJAMIN: It's a major thing to pack them up, call an ambulance, send them to the doctor, wait all day, and then call an ambulance to come back and take them back home. I can do it in 30 minutes.

Now, you're doing just fine and they're taking good care of you.

MARGARET KING, PATIENT'S DAUGHTER: The ambulance bill is so high right now and I can't handle picking him up, he's so heavy. I mean, my nephew, we can't handle him. So it's a blessing to have, you know, somebody come.

HOCHMUTH: It's that sort of appreciation that keeps Benjamin coming back to work day after day. Working in a rural setting like this has its own set of rewards. It's just that money isn't one of them.

BENJAMIN: It depends on what you value as profit. Profit's more than just dollars. Profit's the feeling that you get when you finish what you're doing. Sleeping well at night, knowing I've made a difference in one person's life, I would pay for that versus having somebody pay me for it.

HOCHMUTH: Turns out this town has something perhaps even more valuable than its catch from the sea.

BENJAMIN: We better get moving.

HOCHMUTH: A doctor on call.

Joel Hochmuth, CNN NEWSROOM, Bayou La Batre, Alabama.


WALCOTT: That wraps up today's show. We'll see you back here tomorrow.



Back to the top