(CBS News)
Joplin, Mo., was hit with a devastating tornado Sunday that left at least 125 people dead, another 900 or so injured, and a trail of destruction that's estimated will cost the community more than $3 billion.
CBS News Southern Bureau Chief Scott Keenan filed this report from Joplin.
JOPLIN, Mo., - It's hard to describe the devastation in Joplin, Mo. I've covered a fair amount mayhem in my career, but Joplin stands out.
By now, most everyone has seen the pictures of the rubble: St. John's medical center with all the windows blown out and the drapes blowing in the wind; Cars stacked three, four high; Neighborhood after neighborhood without a single structure standing; block after block after block of debris.
We call it debris, but for the folks in Joplin it is their lives. What we can't convey on television are the smells: the overwhelming smell of natural gas from broken pipes, rain-soaked drywall, and for one of our photographers, the smell of death permeating from the inside of a smashed car.
The first person we came across when we arrived was a young mother combing through the rubble where her house stood 24 hours earlier. She found a small stuffed animal that was her daughter's.
Among all the carnage, she found one tiny stuffed fish, just a couple inches long. She broke down crying. What you see on television is the brave front of proud people. They will tell you that they are thankful that they are safe, that their families are safe.
They keep telling us they just lost material items. "We are down, but not out," "We will rebuild" and "Joplin will come back." But what is hard to show is the profound sadness of the people. When driving through the neighborhoods, as people sift through their lives under the splinters of wood, there is just a look of sadness on their faces.
People randomly break down all the time. On our first night we stopped at a bustling pizza joint. It was packed and people were in good spirits. Our waitress was hustling from table to table, talking up the customers. We asked how she was doing and she told us she lost her house, but everyone was okay. The brave face. She kept on going, slinging pizzas and beer before she rounded back to our table. "Everyone is doin' fine. ... Well, one of our waitress hasn't heard from her 16-year old boy yet, but they'll find him." She turned the corner and started crying.
That's normal here right now.
Of course, over time, the sadness will lift and the people of Joplin will rebuild. Kids will get back to playing baseball and soccer. Schools will be rebuilt and people will get on with their lives.
While that all might be true, it is still hard to understand that how, in just a few short minutes, so many lives could be lost and other changed forever.
