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By Janet Shamlian, NBC News Correspondent

 IMPERIAL VALLEY, Calif. – It stretches for 82 miles, carrying water from the Colorado River to San Diego and the agriculture-rich Imperial Valley. And while many consider the irrigation canal called the "All-American Canal" a lifeline for the region, at least one Southern California man says it is nothing short of a deathtrap. 

I recently spent the day with Dr. John Hunter at a portion of the canal about 30 miles west of the city of El Centro. It's a pretty desolate area – dusty and hot, it's the desert. Hunter is a physicist who has found himself someplace he'd rather not be – squarely in the middle of the national immigration debate.

VIDEO: Canal is deadliest crossing for illegal immigrants

For several years, Hunter has been lobbying for climb-out ladders and buoy lines along the canal. Because the waterway is close to the border, illegal immigrants sometimes try to make their way to the U.S. by swimming across.

It's a real gamble. Even in the triple-digit temperatures they often see here, the water is cold and the current, swift.

Over the years, more than 500 people are believed to have drowned in the canal. Not all were trying to reach American soil.  A little girl named Alejandro drowned trying to save her older sister, and a border agent went in trying to rescue his dog. 

We know the names of these victims, but hundreds of others are unidentified. Perhaps their families believe they're alive and working in the United States when, in fact, they may be buried in unmarked graves in a small cemetery filled with many who tried to cross the canal and failed.  

Hunter and his wife, Laura, took me to that cemetery. Hundreds of crosses stuck in the burning dirt, each marking a life lost. Some are children. Regardless of how you feel about people trying to cross into this country illegally, you can't help but be struck by this tragic patch of earth.

To hear the Hunters tell it, those who manage the All-American Canal have been dragging their feet on more safety measures. Many oppose their plans for more safety measures and question whether taxpayer dollars should be spent on them. 

The Imperial Irrigation District, the agency overseeing the waterway, has posted warning signs about the dangers. And a very graphic public service announcement airing in Mexico aims to do the same.

Critics say more buoys and ladders would serve only to encourage more people to take the gamble of their life.

Postville, Iowa, is smack in the middle of the heartland of America. There's one four-way-stop, a water tower and a dusty main street. It's the kind of place you'd associated with apple pie, corn and football. 

But in Postville you'd be just as likely to run into a Somali woman wearing native garb, an Orthodox Jew or someone from Latin America as you would the stereotypical Midwesterner. 

Postville is home to one of the largest kosher meat-packing facilities in the world, and people from all over the world have come here to make a better future for themselves.

"People come to say, 'How can I make it better for the next generation?'" said Maryn Olson, from the community organization Postville First. "They believe the American Dream could be theirs. The American Dream is such an ideal, not just an idea."

VIDEO: Postville, Iowa, a magnet for immigrantsÂ

Postville calls itself "Hometown to the World" and with reason.  More than 30 different are languages spoken here. And they've all come to work long hours doing grueling work to gain entry into the U.S. economy. 

"Picking our lettuce, picking our tomatoes, cleaning our houses, caring for our children these are jobs that your average American off the street would really rather not do," Olson said.

But just two years ago, the national debate on immigration came knocking on this small town's door.

Immigration and Customs Enforcement raided the Agriprocessors Inc. meat processing plant and arrested some 380 workers for being in the United States illegally. Many of those workers have since been deported. The owners of the processing plant were charged and it eventually closed down.

"It was an economic disaster for the community," Olson said. 

Rents went unpaid, property taxes went unpaid, water bills, you name it. The town estimates it has lost $1.5 million municipally.

"We had good families here and good workers and they were doing fine," said Postville Mayor Leigh Rekow. He says illegal immigration is a government issue, and not a small town issue. But he added that since the raid, many of the town's stores have closed up shop.

Laura Castillo, 25, was one of the workers rounded up. She came to Postville from Mexico City and while she knew it was illegal she had her reasons. "My five-year-old son [in Mexico] has asthma and I needed money for his medicine and doctors," she said.

Following her arrest she spent five months in prison and now works in a local daycare center. 

Castillo was granted a work visa to remain in the United States after she agreed to cooperate with prosecutors in their immigration case against Agriprocessors former chief executive Sholom Rubashkin. (After prosecutors won a decisive conviction in financial fraud case against Rubashkin, they dropped all the immigration charges against him, which carry lesser penalties).     

The packing plant was sold and has reopened; and the new owner says he will only be hiring documented workers. 

The mayor is hopeful life will return to the "Hometown to the World."

"Everyone got together and said we're going to find a way out of this, and we have," Rekow said.

Castillo hopes she will soon be able to call Postville her son's hometown, too. After not seeing him for three years, the five-year-old has just received a U.S. visa and will be reunited, hopefully, with his mother this summer.

McALLEN, Texas – Under a quarter moon, just past midnight, a call blared from the Border Patrol radio that a law enforcement helicopter with infra-red sensors had spotted a group of illegal immigrants crossing the Rio Grande into the United States.

In response, Border Patrol agents raced along rough dirt roads to reach the area. In the beam of the helicopter searchlight they found the immigrants running through newly irrigated sorghum fields. The furrows between the crops were slippery with mud, which hampered the agents' pursuit.

Mark Potter/NBC News
Border Patrol supervisors Rick Moreno and Jose Trevino patrol near the Rio Grande in Texas at sundown. WATCH VIDEO: Rio Grande River is immigration 'highway,' official says

Of the 20 people spotted by the helicopter team, ten were eventually rounded up. The rest either swam back to Mexico or hunkered down in the field to escape detection.  Those who were caught were transported to a Border Patrol office for identification, processing and a determination of whether they would be prosecuted or returned to their home countries.

For the agents in the muddy field, it was just another night on patrol along the Rio Grande in south Texas, where the flood of illegal immigrants never stops.

Illegal immigration on the rise here
In the Border Patrol's Rio Grande Valley sector, which stretches from Brownsville west past McAllen to Rio Grande City, agents are starting to see a slight increase in the apprehensions of illegal immigrants when compared to last year.

Along the entire length of the Southwest border, from Texas to California, illegal immigration seemed to have taken a nosedive in recent years, with apprehensions in fiscal year 2009 falling to 540,865 compared to 705,005 in fiscal 2008.

Many believe the drop was the result of fewer jobs being available for immigrants in the U.S. after the economic downturn. Others credit increased law enforcement efforts and high-tech detection methods with deterring illegal crossings. On Tuesday, President Barack Obama ordered 1,200 National Guard troops to the border to boost security.

In the Rio Grande area, though, immigration arrests have risen 4 percent this year and most notable is the increase in what agents call OTMs – Other Than Mexicans – immigrants from 74 different countries who have been picked up here. They represent nearly a third of all illegal immigrants detained in the sector and come mostly from Central America, but also from as far away as China and the Middle East.

"One of the reason OTM's are drawn to this particular area is that we're the closest tip to Mexico," said J.R. Villarreall, the Assistant Chief of the Border Patrol's Rio Grande sector.  "Many of them migrate through Mexico and we're the closest place where they can enter the United States."

Mark Potter/NBC News
Border Patrol agents Henry Davis and Arturo Vela patrol the Rio Grande by boat.

Riding the river
In Texas, the dividing line between the United States and Mexico is the middle of the Rio Grande, which in the McAllen area runs wide and fast with treacherous currents. 

Patrolling the river on a Border Patrol boat with powerful but quiet four-stroke engines, agents Henry Davis and Arturo Vega kept a close eye on the Mexican shoreline. They were watching for signs that groups of immigrants might be getting ready to illegally cross the river. Small cuts in the brush on the Mexican side revealed where immigrants would enter the water. Hundreds of worn spot on the American side are where the undocumented travelers came ashore. They are a little bit downriver from the Mexican launch sites – to account for the current flow.

"It's constant, constant. This is one of the hottest spots we have right here, in this zone," said Davis. "It's non-stop every day, 24 hours a day," agreed Vela.

The safest way for immigrants to cross the river is in rafts provided by smugglers. But some of them use other, less secure methods to stay afloat.

"We've seen them use everything from a raft to a water jug, two-liter soda bottles that they'll cap and tie a string to and throw under their arms," said Jose Trevino, a Border Patrol supervisor. "Trash bags have even been used.  They fill them with air and tie them off."

Some of the immigrants drown in the river, leaving U.S. Border Patrol agents to retrieve the bodies and return them to Mexican authorities.

During a recent flight along the border, a helicopter pilot watched a swimmer in the river who seemed to be struggling.  By radio the pilot alerted U.S. agents in the area to the man's plight, but eventually the swimmer turned around and made it safely back to the Mexican side. Not all are that fortunate.

Mark Potter/NBC News
Moreno and Trevino search a thicket along the Rio Grande near McAllen, Texas.

A network of hidden trails
Just north of the Rio Grande, on the U.S. side of the border, the immigrants and their guides have carved a widespread network of trails in the thick underbrush. Agents said whenever they discover and shut down one trail, another seems to pop up quickly.

"There's hundreds of thousands of them. Just in this half-mile radius, you'll probably see a hundred," said Border Patrol supervisor Rick Moreno. "As people come walking through they start developing a trail. And to avoid getting lost, aliens, undocumented workers, will keep to that trail."

The terrain around the river is hilly in spots and is often covered with thick vegetation where the immigrants can hide from U.S. agents. "This area is hard to patrol," said Border Patrol supervisor Jose Trevino, pointing toward the high grass along a trail.  "There's a lot of brush, a lot of underbrush and a lot of trees. When you combine both of them, there's a lot of hiding points."

Farther up the road in the border cities, smugglers will often hide the illegal immigrants in safe houses until arrangements can be made to transport them to other areas. Authorities found one such house recently in Alamo, Texas, with 67 people crammed inside, sharing bedding, food and limited bathroom facilities. The one-story house was on a major road, across the street from a high school.

Running into drug traffickers
In addition to intercepting immigrants, Border Patrol agents must also be alert to the dangers of encountering drug traffickers smuggling tons of marijuana, cocaine, heroin and methamphetamine into the United States along the riverbank.  They often float the drugs  – primarily marijuana – across the Rio Grande in rafts and inner tubes before bringing it ashore on the American side.

During a recent night operation, Border Patrol agents searched for drug smugglers in a field covered with tall grass and bushes. They located and arrested one of the suspected smugglers and found ten bales of marijuana hidden in the brush for pick-up. They also took note of several people passing by in cars. The agents believed they were spotters hired by the traffickers to keep an eye on U.S. law enforcement officials. "They watch us every day, every day.  Their counter surveillance is pretty intense," said Trevino. 

The next afternoon, agents hiding in the grass spotted another group of people starting to smuggle a marijuana load across the river, but a helicopter passing by startled the smugglers and they turned back.  A short time later, on a muddy road along the American side of the river, agents found two cars with their back seats removed, most likely to make room for the marijuana bales which were supposed to have arrived from Mexico.

While the number of illegal immigrants apprehended dropped along the border in recent years, law enforcement officials say marijuana seizures have skyrocketed upward.

A 24-hour threat along the border
The U.S. Border Patrol mans the river area 24 hours a day, using three overlapping shifts.  Unlike other areas of the border – including Tucson, El Paso and Brownville – which have stationary camera system to assist the agents, there is no such system in the McAllen area, despite its heavy load of illegal immigrants and drug smugglers. Agents say it would be very helpful to have monitored camera back-up providing extra eyes in the sky.

As it stands now, agents in this sector rely on heavy manpower, electronic ground sensors, portable night scopes, helicopter surveillance and their own close-working knowledge of the area and the threats there.

"The agents are faced with a difficult situation every day," said Villarreal. "They know they are coming out there to protect the border.  They don't know what they're going to encounter that particular day.

 MIAMI – If you think doing your own taxes is complicated, try applying to move to the U.S. legally.

The byzantine system confounds government and legal experts on a daily basis.

The mayor of North Miami, Andre Pierre, is not only a Democrat with links to the White House, he's an immigration lawyer and an immigrant.

A native of Haiti, Pierre oversees a city with a population of 60,000. Forty percent are Haitian-Americans.

VIDEO: The twisted path to legal immigration

He has endless cases of constituents slogging through federal red tape to come to the U.S. within the law. One unresolved case is personal.

Pierre has been working since 2002 to bring his brother-in-law, 16-year-old niece and 14-year-old nephew to South Florida.

"Ever since I was a little boy, I have always played by the rules," Pierre says. "All you have to tell me is what the rules are and I will follow them. All I ask, is that the maker of the rules follow them too."

Pierre, the mayor-lawyer, says the rules are ever-changing.

His family has provided birth certificates, blood tests, paternity tests, medical exams, "documents upon documents," only to be told that the U.S. Embassy in Haiti lost the file or that the medical tests must be updated.

An estimated 50,000 Haitians have been told they can come to the U.S., but they're not here because of a quota system.

The U.S. establishes how many people can move here from each country each year – a system designed to stop a flood of immigrants. There are lots of categories within those quotas, and the numbers are not hard and fast.

It's an ill-defined, hard-to-track system, according to John Echard, a spokesman with the U.S. State Department.

But quotas mean those approved to come to the United States often wait more than a decade to get a slot.

Cheryl Little, with the Florida Immigration Advocacy Center in Miami, says the immigration system is "as insanely complicated and nonsensical as it gets. It's incredibly confusing to understand. Bottom line, it's a failed system for the folks who deserve to get the benefit they're entitled to in a timely manner. Instead it's 'stop, do not pass go.' It's ridiculous."

Phil Kent, with Americans for Immigration Control, agrees the system is complicated but says 10-year waits are justified.

"We can't go over these quotas or we will simply be swamped. Our social system, our taxpayer-supported services, just can't handle it. We cannot just have everyone coming in. That's why we have the backlogs."

Kent and others admit that while the intent is to control the flow into the U.S., the system instead encourages illegal entry – a conundrum that experts suggest won't be resolved without congressional action.

And as the NBC/MSNBC/Telemundo poll shows, that has more and more Americans demanding action on the state level

By Miguel Llanos, msnbc.com

To all those who have donated hair clippings, and those who have shipped them, the Unifed Area Command dealing with the Gulf oil disaster has this message: Please stop.

Using hair booms "was not deemed feasible after a technical evaluation," the command said in a statement. "In a February 2010 side-by-side field test conducted during an oil spill in Texas, commercial sorbent boom absorbed more oil and much less water than hair boom, making it the better operational choice."

Charlie Henry, NOAA's scientific support coordinator at the scene, added: "Our priority when cleaning up an oil spill is to find the most efficient and expedient way to remove the oil from the affected area while causing no additional damage. One problem with the hair boom is that it became water-logged and sank within a short period of time."

"Commercial sorbent boom is readily available and scientifically designed and tested for oil containment and absorption on the water," the command added. "Additionally, response teams are familiar with and properly trained to safely deploy, maintain, recover, and dispose commercial sorbent boom." 

VENICE, La. – NBC News Mark Potter has been reporting on the Gulf of Mexico oil spill for the last several weeks. He explains the latest developments in the oil leak, BP's efforts to halt the flow of oil, and the mood among locals in the community.

Today we went about four miles off the southeastern tip of Louisiana in a boat and saw blobs of oil out on the water.

You could see red blobs of oil, the sheen of oil and the mixture of oil and dispersants together. It has kind of a red color, sticks up a little out of the ocean and has a texture to it – so it's fairly easy to see.

The oil was very clearly hanging out there, floating on the surface, about four miles from shore.

VIDEO: BP hopes 'top kill' will stop oil spill

We also saw a small fleet of shrimp boats out there that had been hired to help clean up the area. They were lowering booms to collect the oil.

We saw an area, right at the southern tip of land, where the oil had gotten up into the grasses. Because of the waves and the tide, the oil had actually gone about halfway up the length of the grass and left a brown stain all along that edge of the grass.

There is absolutely no shrimping going on because all of the fishing areas have been closed down by now. Even the sport fishing guys have found their waters closed down with the expansion of the closed fishing zones yesterday.

So anybody who can get out and work for the oil company is eager to do it because there just aren't any other alternatives here right now.

People are very depressed here. They see their livelihoods going away. And every time they turn around the restrictions grow, the areas where they are prohibited from fishing have increased and they are left with nothing to do except for try to work for the oil company.

And this was a year when they hoped – five years after Katrina and a couple of years of the economic downturn – to start making some money again. They were all looking forward to the shrimping and fishing seasons – but they've ended now. So the mood is rather glum.

I don't think they fear the attention waning yet, because the media are all still here.

But I think they do fear that in time, if the oil is stopped at the well by BP, that the media will go away and leave them to deal with all the other problems that will still be here, even if the well is shut off. I've heard several people say things like, "when the media leaves, we'll be left here on our own."

It hasn't happened yet, they are still getting an awful lot of attention, but they are afraid that in time, that may go away.

I think there is a real sense of discouragement among people here that they have not been able to shut down the well. Even the attempts to capture oil from the broken pipe using a tube going up to a ship is seen as a stop gap measure – only getting a small percentage of the oil.

There is a sense that this has gone on for a really long time without a solution. I think people are eagerly watching BP to see if this weekend they will actually be able to seal off the well using a couple of the techniques they've been talking about – the "top-kill" or the "junk shot." BP announced this afternoon that they hoped to start the "top-kill" procedures by Sunday.

The "top-kill" method is where they shove mud into the well to stop the flow of oil. And the "junk shot" is where they put plastic, pieces of rubber and golf balls into the blowout preventer to clog it up and seal it with cement to stop the leak.

Hopefully, one of those methods will stop the leak, but one thing I've noticed is that incrementally, every day, the situation seems to get worse.

Everyone is realizing that they are in this for the long haul and of course, they are worried about the long term ecological effects of this oil. So people are pretty distressed about their current prospects and future prospects.

Individuals and organizations are readying themselves for the fight to protect the water, land and wildlife that sits in the path of the oil sheen. Here are some ways you can help and other resources for staying on top of the story. Please read the comments section for other suggestions as well.

May 15

Deepwater Horizon Response Unified Command is urging the public to report any breaks in the nearly 1.2 million feet of boom that have been placed throughout the Gulf of Mexico. To report an incident, call 1-866-448-5816.

In addition, the group is soliciting the public's ideas for "stopping the flow of oil into the Gulf, containing or recovering it, or
cleaning it up." Click here to submit your suggestion, or alternatively, call 281-366-5511.

Related link: BP's suggestion box is spilling over

May 12

The International Bird Rescue Research Center (IBRRC) lets you support the 16 members of their Oil Spill Response Team, as well as other non-profit organizations working in the region, by "donating, becoming a member or adopting a bird."

IBRRC's blog: Documenting their work with injured birds

FAQ: How the IBRRC treats oiled birds

May 9

The Louisiana Bucket Brigade's Oil Spill Crisis Map lets Gulf Coast residents report "sightings of fishermen out or work, endangered wildlife, oil on shore, oil sheens, health impacts and other problems." Information can be submitted in a variety of ways.

"Reports can be made and viewed at http://oilspill.labucketbrigade.org. Mobile phone users can text or call in reports to  (504) 27 27 OIL.  Reports can also be sent to bpspillmap@gmail.com and through Twitter with the hashtag #BPspillmap. Eyewitness reports for the map require a description, and location information such as address, city and state, zip-code or coordinates. Citizen reporters can remain anonymous or disclose their contact information. Photos and video can be uploaded via the web."

Click here for more on the organization's effort.

May 6

The National Wildlife
Federation, in partnership with its colleagues in the Gulf states, is recruiting volunteers for an "extensive volunteer wildlife surveillance network."

Click here for more information on joining the effort. 

May 5

The National Wildlife Federation is now accepting pledges via your mobile device. Text "WILDLIFE" to 20222 to donate $10 to the organization's "on-the-ground volunteer and restoration efforts."

WWL-AM, a news-talk radio station, is on nothing other than the oil spill story. You can listen live here: WWL.com.

May 4

From the Times-Picayune Staff, more Gulf oil spill phone numbers and websites:

To submit alternative response technology, services or products: 281.366.5511

To submit your vessel as a vessel of opportunity skimming system: 281.366.5511

To contact the Deepwater Horizon Joint Information Center: 985.902.5231

For information about the response effort, visit www.deepwaterhorizonresponse.com.

For information about validated environmental air and water sampling results, visit the EPA's website.

May 3

Msnbc.com reader Madeline Crowley pointed out links to several local environmental organizations that are working on cleaning up the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico and accepting donations

Mobile Baykeeper is raising money in response to the oil spill in order to protect "the beauty, health, and heritage of the Mobile Bay Watershed."

Seabird Sanctuary has 300 volunteers on "stand-by" to assist with the Gulf Oil Spill if it impacts Florida.

The Greater New Orleans Foundation has set up a fund to help some communities that will be affected by the oil spill. 

May 2

Msnbc.com reader Corla Coles points out the efforts of Matter of Trust, a non-profit organization that invites salons, pet groomers and the abundantly coiffed to send leftover hair trimmings for use in highly absorbent hair mats and booms. According to their website, "Hair is very efficient at collecting oil out of the air, off surfaces like your skin and out of the water, even petroleum oil."

The group boasts twelve locations across region that are ready to receive human and pet hair, and hundreds of volunteers participating in "Boom B Q" parties stuffing the donated locks into recycled nylons to form booms that can be strung along beaches and marshes.

Related link: Organization combing country for spare hair to fight oil slick

May 1

To report injured or oiled wildlife, call 1-866-557-1401. To report spill-related damage, call 1-800,440-0858, and to inquire about volunteering, or to report oil on the shore, call 1-866-448-5816.

The Louisiana Seafood Promotion & Marketing Board is connecting BP with fisherman looking to aid in the cleanup effort. If interested, call 281-366-5511 or e-mail, HorizonSupport@OEGLLC.com.

The Coalition to Restore Coastal Louisiana is looking for volunteers to "fill a variety of needs." Pre-veterinary students, veterinary technicians, and anyone with HAZWOPER training (Hazardous Waste Operations and Emergency Response Standard) are "strongly encouraged" to register.

The National Audubon Society is recruiting volunteers in the fight to save "ecologically sensitive areas." Visit their website to fill out a volunteer registration form.

OilSpillVolunteers.com also provides the opportunity sign up and assist with the cleanup.

While their website says volunteers are not yet needed, Mobile Baykeeper is urging anyone who is interested to call their office at 251-433-4229 or e-mail info@mobilebaykeeper.org.

Have we missed any opportunities that you've noticed? Leave a comment below.

by Miguel Llanos, msnbc.com

Some 5,200 feet of boom used in the Gulf oil spill has gone missing in the area around Pensacola, Fla., and the leading suspects are: someone hoping to resell it; an upset fisherman or woman; and Mother Nature.

The Pensacola News Journal reports boom worth $100,000 was reported missing from two sites earlier this week. Police are investigating the possibility of theft, but it's also possible the boom was broken up by waves and drifted away.

"Who says somebody stole it? It probably just washed away," said resident Randy Larcon.

Luke McCoy, approached while fishing near one of the sites, had a different theory. "I know why they took it; it's blocking the fishing ... They probably didn't sell it, they just dropped it in the woods somewhere."

"Waterworld" star Kevin Costner has arrived in the Louisiana bayou— this time sporting oil clean-up technology, not gills.

The multimillionaire Hollywood actor, best known for his roles in "Dances with Wolves," "Field of Dreams" and "The Untouchables," is reportedly offering local officials technology designed to help save delicate marshes from the oil that is gushing from a broken well in the Gulf of Mexico.

The actor has diversified into environmental technologies, apparently in collaboration with his brother Dan, a scientist, through a company called Costner Industries Nevada Corp. He has told reporters in the past that he has invested $26 million to develop green technology.

"Sometimes it takes a star to come in with their money and time to make a difference," Plaquemines Parish President Billy Nungesser told reporters Wednesday at a press conference in the fishing town of Venice, deep in the marshlands.

Based on patents issued to the company, Costner Industries focuses on centrifuge technology that can separate oil and water. The company, which has addresses in Nevada and Texas, could not immediately be reached for comment.

"Kevin Costner got down here yesterday," said Kurt Fromherz, public affairs officer for the parish confirmed on Thursday, though he could not provide details on what Costner was offering.

He said Costner became interested in the area through his friend, actor and director Stephen Baldwin, who Fromherz said is working on a documentary in Plaquemines Parish. Baldwin is the fourth and youngest of the famous show business Baldwins, after brothers Alec, Daniel and William.

Julie Pitre runs a shrimp boat in Chauvin, La. She says doesn't really want to get involved in a lawsuit to seek compensation from BP for the oil spill, she just wants to keep shrimping.

But Charles Bourque, a lawyer in Houma, La., doesn't believe local fishermen will receive fair compensation for their losses unless they get legal representation – especially because they will be up against BP's team of lawyers working on the company's behalf.

Watch the video link to hear their stories from the Gulf.

Third-generation Louisiana oysterman Mitch Jurisich fears losing the ecosystem he relies on for a living to the massive oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

"We're facing sort of a grim reaper. You know – it's sitting out there – it's a big monster – sitting out there waiting to gulp us up," says Jurisich.

"How much of this can we handle? Waiting and wondering what tomorrow is going to bring."

Click on the link below to hear more of the challenges facing Gulf oysterman in their own words.

BP's Chief Executive Tony Hayward admits that the company could have done more to prepare for a deepwater oil leak like the one that has created the slick in the Gulf, the Wall Street Journal reports.

VIDEO: Visitors and locals on a barrier island at the fringe of Louisiana talk about the looming presence of oil

Kari Huus / msnbc.com Antoine "Whitney" Dardar, a Houma tribal elder, has been fishing and trapping in the bayou near Golden Meadow, La., for his whole life.

LA FOURCHE PARISH, La. -- The native Houma people, who have long relied on fishing and trapping in the marshlands of Louisiana, have been through a lot as a tribe.

They have been robbed of their lands, subjected to segregation, witnessed the steady erosion of marshlands and been displaced by hurricanes. Now, some fear the oil slick that threatens to invade the bayou could be the final blow to their culture and traditions.

"We still could make a living here," says tribal elder Antoine "Whitney" Dardar, 74. "But now, with the oil coming, I don't know."

The tribe, which has about 17,000 members, has lived off the marsh for hundreds of years, and until recently many members made their living entirely off of marsh resources—moving from one harvest to another, season by season.

"In May there was shrimping, then we would start crabbing, we caught redfish in the summer, white shrimp in August, and then trapped nutria in the fall and sold the pelts," says Aubrey Chaisson Jr., who is in his 50s.

The Houma Indians survived this way after the Louisiana Purchase of 1803, when the U.S. government took control of the region from the French. Unlike French and Spanish colonists before them, the Americans rejected the Houma tribe's property claims, says tribal historian Michael Dardar, who is the nephew of Antoine. The Houma people were eventually forced out of their permanent villages to the north in Bayou Cane, and moved into this area deep in the marshes, where they traditionally had seasonal fishing villages.

"They ignored us and hoped we would wither away," Dardar says. 

In the 1920s and 30s, after oil was discovered in the marsh area, the Houma Indians suffered another land grab, according to Dardar.

"The Houma were mostly illiterate, and spoke only the Houma-French language," he says. "A lot of people came in and (acquired) their property through a variety of methods."

Many Houma people signed documents they were told were leases by the oil interests and others, but the papers turned out to be quit-claim deeds, Dardar says.  Later, hundreds of the documents held by the parishes mysteriously disappeared.

"We have no tribal lands," says Laura Billiot, a member of the tribal council that represents more than half the Houmas, who are concentrated in La Fourche Parish and neighboring Terrebonne Parish. "The oil companies and the politicians took our lands a long time ago."

It is difficult for the Houma Indians to do battle with either oil companies or the government because they are not a federally recognized tribe, though they have tribal status with the state of Louisiana. They lost a bid to gain federal status 20 years ago, in part because of opposition from other tribes. In addition, Dardar says, oil companies petitioned the Bureau of Indian Affairs against recognition of the Houma tribe.

Paradoxically, as commercial fishermen have had a harder time making money because of foreign competition, high fuel prices and erosion of the marsh caused by oil companies, many -- including Houma tribe members -- have turned to the oil companies to supplement their incomes. And most will say they don't oppose drilling, but wish there was more oversight of the oil industry.

"It's a tragedy what they have done here. They have made a mess of my heritage," says Tommy Verdin, who runs a large shrimp trawler.

But when Verdin came back to Grand Isle after Hurricane Katrina and found his home reduced to a slab and his boat badly damaged, he got his captain's license to run oil supply boats.

"I had my back against the wall," he says.

Aubrey James Chaisson, 36, says his father advised him when he was growing up that he should not go into the fishing business. So the younger Chaisson piloted boats for the oil companies for a while before becoming the Grand Isle fire chief. But he says he misses the life he knew as a kid.

"I feel I've been robbed," says the father of four. "You can't raise your kids as native Americans anymore."

One pocket of Houma Indian families is famously clinging to their traditional lifestyle on tiny Isle de Jean Charles in Terrebonne Parish, but their situation is becoming increasingly dire. Where there were 100 Houma families living prior to the recent string of hurricanes—Katrina, Rita, Gustav and Ike—there are now only about 20, says historian Dardar.

Some of the others would like to return, but they face obstacles that include the cost of replacing destroyed homes with stronger, higher structures on land that is rapidly eroding and sinking. In addition, the road to the island remains damaged and is regularly submerged during high tide. The parish government says it doesn't have the funds to repair it.

Add to those challenges the threat of oil.

"The tribe is at a crossroads," says Kirk Cheramie, program director for a Houma radio station who also acts as spokesman for the tribe. "We are tied to the land, the resources, the fish, the crab and shrimp… Not only that, but it's where our families are buried. It's our identity."

NASHVILLE, TN – A week after severe storms and flooding wrecked havoc across this city, I watched as families living along Delray Drive, on the west side of town, ripped their homes down to bare nails, throwing out lifetimes of memories along with every possession they own.

The torrential storms and flooding killed 23 people across Tennessee and caused more than $1.5 billion in property damage in the Nashville area alone.

But what has surprised me most is how few tears I have seen flowing; instead, I've seen the uncompromising courage and tenacity of the people living here.

And, of course, there are the tragedies.  

SLIDESHOW: Deadly flooding in Tennessee and Mississippi

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Swept away by the rising water
When the Richland Creek spilled over its banks and flooded this neighborhood, Andrew England, 79, and Martha England, 82, didn't get out in time. The elderly couple drowned in the family home where they had raised their six children.

Neighbor Bernon Mayton tried to convince them to leave with him. "He was in a wheelchair and the wife used a walker. I knew they'd need help getting out, but they wouldn't come. They wanted to wait for family to come get them."

Neighbors say one son tried to come to their rescue, but the flood waters rose so fast he arrived too late.

Mayton said he heard that the Edwards were found holding hands. He is haunted by that image and his inability to convince them to leave. "I will go to my grave with this regret in my heart."

A funeral mass is being held Monday for the couple at the same church they were married in 59 years ago.

Mayton doubted he would have time to attend the church service. With the help of friends and the kindness of strangers, he and his wife are still cleaning up their own mess.

Although, it's probably more accurate to say they are removing the mess.

On the orders of local health officials, anything the contaminated floodwater touched must be dumped. "We lost just about everything we own. My clothes, the kids' toys, refrigerator, television, beds and all the other furniture."

Up and down the street other families are at work, piling their sopping wet possessions on the curb.

Like many here, police officer Roger Tidwell had no flood insurance. Emotional, he explained that his family has lived in this home since 1964. "I just paid it off in January. We're going to take it one day at a time, one minute at a time."

Flood victim Mark Carlisle worked for hours, stacking lamps and vinyl records, saggy stuffed animals and family photos outside his house. Pointing to the gutter, Carlisle said "Your whole life. That's 31 years of accumulating gone in a matter of minutes."

But, like many others here, Carlisle is just thankful to be alive.

That sentiment motivated Gloria Walters to lend a helping hand. Her home, which sits on higher ground, escaped the flooding. "But we all feel the pain," said Walters.

She knows some of the people she's helping but not others. "It don't matter," said Walters. "We are all family."

Johnny Morgan is another person who escaped the floodwaters. Many here are calling him a hero.

When the water rose four feet, Morgan and his son Cody steered their boats down Delray Drive, looking for Morgan's sister and niece who live at the end of a long winding road. But, they never made it to her house. "There were people stranded on roofs and yelling out of windows. I couldn't leave them there." For over six hours, they pulled about three dozen people to safety.

While he hasn't spoken to his sister, a neighbor told Morgan that she made it to safety.

Even after the water receded, Morgan didn't stop.

Taking time off from work, even though he admitted he could use the money, Morgan has been spending his days driving his truck around the neighborhood, handing out cold water, sandwiches and hand-sanitizer to flood victims. He even finagled a friend to loan him two Porta-Johns, which he set up at each end of the neighborhood. He brought a pair of dry shoes to a woman cleaning out her friend's living room.

Hundreds of volunteers like Morgan and his son have swarmed into this neighborhood, helping folks cope with the hardships by hauling trash and handing out clean clothes and fresh food.

Morgan says the worst of times brings out the best in people. "People need to know they haven't been forgotten."

GOLDEN MEADOW, La. — An aerie of legal eagles has been migrating southward in 2 1/2 weeks since an offshore explosion left oil gushing into the Gulf of Mexico, descending on coastal communities like this one in search of clients in a position to seek damages from BP for the mess.

They got here well ahead of any oil, which remains out in the Gulf but could make landfall in this area in the next few days, depending on winds and tides.

Even without the ads placed by the law firms announcing meetings at local diners and oyster shacks, the lawyers' presence would be hard to miss in this town about 3 hours drive southwest of New Orleans, which is populated mainly by oil workers and fishermen.

Kirk Cheramie, first saw them at his favorite breakfast spot, the Huddle House, where BMWs and Mercedes Benzes were suddenly parked among the usual pick-up trucks.

"You can tell they are lawyers because they are carrying briefcases, wearing suits and there are papers spread out all over the tables," said Cheramie, who grew up in the area and is now setting up a public radio station in Golden Meadow. "And you can hear their conversations," as they meet with locals, he said.

There's a good-sized population of local liability lawyers already, in part because of the work related injuries in the rough-and-tumble oil business. Some of those folks are calling around too, seeking roles as local advisers to the major firms coming in to snap up cases. If the oil badly damages the coast, it could result in billions of dollars in claims against BP.

Some of the new arrivals aren't particularly up front about their interests, said Cheramie. He said he attended two local meetings that were billed in radio announcements as information sessions on the oil spill, both of which were organized by lawyers trying to sign up litigants.

The wave of lawyers is vexing to some people down here, who would prefer to be fielding offers of assistance from BP, its subcontractor, Transocean Ltd., and the government.

 "Who showed up? The sharks," Murry Gaspard, a fisherman from nearby Galliano, said Thursday at a meeting to discuss the spill at the Houma Tribal Center. "The sharks showed up looking for something to eat."

PASS CHRISTIAN, Miss. -- If an oil slick hits here on the pristine vacation beaches of coastal Mississippi, Ronnie Davis is the last line of defense.

He's the Harrison County employee who is driving the grader down this white sand beach, building 2- to 3-foot sand berms at the water's edge.

Jim Seda / msnbc.com A woman talks on her cell phone asÅ a Harrison CountyÅ grader operator moves the sand berm designed keep oil off the beach closer to the water in Gulfport, Miss., onÅ Wednesday.

There's only so much boom the state and federal government can deploy, and looking out from the beaches here, it's clear that there is a lot more ocean than there is boom out there. So for this tourist area, Davis and his grader are Plan B.

If the dome that BP plans to lower over the oil leak, the relief drilling, the absorbent booms and the containment booms don't do the trick, local authorities hope the berms will keep the goo offÅ the beach.

Davis says the stretch of beach he is working is about 26 miles long. He already has built a berm for about half of that distance, but now he's mowing it down and moving the sand berm closer to the water's edge. He still hopes to protect the entire stretch of beach, assuming time allows. Just in case.

HOPEDALE, La. -- On the other side of a security barrier, beyond which journalists are not allowed, dozens of men gather around a man wearing a tidy burgundy golf shirt. He's trying to give marching orders for crews of these men -- mostly fishermen -- who have been hired to deploy oil booms near BP's broken well offshore, where oil is gushing into the ocean.

"Listen up -- be a little patient, bear with me," says the man, as the fishermen mill around, smoking, talking. It's hard to be patient, given what is at stake for many here:

"Everything," says one of the men, Tony Goutierrez, after stepping just outside the barrier.

Jim Seida / msnbc.com Dozens of local men gather at the marina in Hopedale, La., to get jobs deploying oil booms to protect the coastline from the Gulf of Mexico oil spill.

Goutierrez owns a seafood dock here, near some of Louisiana's richest oyster and shrimp harvesting areas. His business, Shell Beach Seafood, has been closed since a precautionary fishing ban went into effect here on April 29.

Goutierrez, who grew up here, has three children -- the youngest a newborn. And his wife, a teacher, is on maternity leave, he says.

"This is our season," says Goutierrez, tucking a pinch of chewing tobacco into his cheek. "This is when we make our money. The crabs just started biting … and then we had to shut down."

Goutierrez was in the first wave to sign up to try to contain the oil, taking the hazmat class that qualified him to go out and lay oil boom. He's put in three days out on the water so far, and now has to wait a month before he can work again, to make way for other people who need the money.

Speaking of money, Goutierrez says he does not even know what BP is paying him for this work. He was expecting to find out later in the day. But no matter how much it is, there's no real choice, he says.

"They gotta save (the marsh) no matter what," he says of his fellow fishermen. "Even if they don't get paid, they gotta go. … (Otherwise) we might feel the repercussions for 20 years."

Jim Seida / msnbc.com "I keep looking, but haven't seen any yet," says Damon Stafford, referring to the oil that's spilling into the Gulf of Mexico after an explosion aboard the Deepwater Horizon oil rig . Stafford was enjoying he warm, sunny weather at the beach in Waveland, Miss., on Wednesday.

VENICE, La. -- Morris Hartt doesn't wish for disaster, but he's survived so many during his life on this skinny strip of land between the levee and the bayou, that he's used to making the best of the boom that follows emergencies.

With the oil crisis developing off the coast, his little cinderblock convenience store on the main road to the port of Venice is once again riding the crest of disaster. Business has been booming for two weeks, as oil clean-up crews, government workers, environmentalists and sightseers have flooded in to Venice, a staging area for the cleanup operation.

"There's definitely a boom after a disaster, and you can make money if you are the first one down here," he says. "After Katrina, I had the first gas, the first beer, the first ice and a television." Selling beer from a cooler outside his store, which was still knee deep in mud , he replaced the sign that once said "Coldest Beer in town" with one that said "Only Beer in Town."

Jim Seida / msnbc.com "You wouldn't want to have a disaster to make a few bucks," says Morris Hartt outside his convenience store in Venice, La.

Hartt says he knew just what to do because he watched his father, who opened the store in 1954 and had to rebuild it after Hurricane Betsy flooded it and the family home across the road in 1965. He did so again after Hurricane Camille battered their home and swept away the entire store – everything but an air compressor.

Now, Hartt is getting business from a different sort of disaster.

While a clutch of regulars gather inside Hartt's Exxon, swigging beer in a cloud of cigarette smoke, a steady stream of customers pull in — oil cleanup workers, environmentalists, sightseers and the occasional journalist.

Business is buzzing up and down the road to Venice. The Cyprus Cove restaurant at the marina is so crowded that the owner brought in extra waiters and kitchen staff from his restaurant up in Metarie.

"Every motel, cabin, and trailer space in the area — it's all booked," says Tony Fricky, who works for the Port of Venice.

In front of one home along the main road, the owners put up a sign hoping to cash in on the overflow: "Oil spill campers welcome!"

But the aftermath of this crisis will be different, perhaps much worse than the more familiar mess left by hurricanes.

Already friends and customers who fish are suffering from the loss of income, Hartt says, and the whole community fears the long-term damage from the oil.

"We don't know what to expect at all," he says. "Business is good for me now, but it's not good enough to make up for it if fishing is ruined for a hundred years. We'll starve to death."

By Cynthia Joyce, msnbc.com

PORT FOURCHON, La. -- On the drive south along Highway 1 toward Louisiana's southernmost port -- currently the staging area for efforts to contain the massive oil slick in the Gulf of Mexico -- billboards advertising fresh seafood and offshore drilling jobs dot the landscape in equal measure.  As the road narrows, so does the range of industry: Down here, there's mostly just fishing and drilling, and although people sometimes speak of them in either/or terms in the face of an epic environmental disaster, they've cohabitated for decades.

While workers in the Port Fourchon area on Tuesday afternoon weren't downplaying the tragic oil rig explosion and huge spill that resulted, concerns about the impact on the fishing industry took a backseat to worries over whether the incident will ultimately lead to less drilling.

"All I know is, I come here from North Carolina to work," said Norman Kent, captain of a supply boat for offshore oil rigs. "Can I get this work in North Carolina? No. So I do not want to see it go away. As tragic as it is, I'd hate to see this one thing make people say, 'Whoa, no more.'"

On the day of the explosion, Kent was waiting to be airlifted out to an oil rig support vessel when his flight was cancelled.  "I knew when I was sitting in air logistics something was wrong," he recalled. "When I heard what happened, it was like, 'Holy Toledo.' I've only been out here a couple of years, and I've never felt endangered, but that's made me think, that there's always that risk."

In a region where "Petroleum Ed" has been on the curriculum in public schools, it seems to go without saying that drilling for oil is a risk worth taking, says Gary Ellis, general manager of GOL (Gulf Offshore Logistics) Docks, a Port Fourchon company that provides support to offshore oil rigs.

Ellis started working in the industry in 1972, as a "roustabout" on an oil rig ("that's the person who does pretty much anything no one else wants to do" he explained), making $8 an hour, a decent wage back then for a job that today would pay about $32 an hour to start. 

"It was a different time. There were fewer safety regulations then," he said, recalling the Shell Bay Marchand and platform fires in 1970, which killed four workers. Until this year, that event had stood as the biggest rig blowout he'd seen.

He believes that incident, which eventually led to tighter regulations across the offshore oil industry, prompted a greater public outcry locally, because fishermen made up a larger percentage of the population at the time.

Ellis also said he has no confidence that investigators will ever be able to determine what caused the blowout on the Deepwater Horizon rig.

"I don't think the real truth will ever come out about what happened there," he said.

But asked whether there should have been better contingency plans for handling an accident of this scale, Ellis shook his head no. "I don't think anybody could've done anything different than what's been done so far" he said. "It's like asking, 'Where was the contingency plan for 9/11?' It's something you try to prepare for, but you don't think it'll ever happen.  But it's the risk you take."

And Chuck Falgout, health, safety and environmental manager at GOL, expressed frustration over what he sees as political posturing in response to the crisis.

"There are always inherent elements of danger -- there's always a worst case scenario -- but this is our livelihood," Falgout said softly in his Cajun accent. "People can talk about 'clean energy,' but that's not been developed to where this is now. So finally Obama was looking into drilling off the shelf – and now he's going to step back?"

Prior generations of Falgout's family had been subsistence fisherman in the region, and many members of his family continue to fish today, he said. During the 1970s and '80s, he explained, many of the local fisherman felt like oil exploration was cutting in on their territory. 

If there's less animosity now, he conceded, it's partly because there are fewer fisherman. 
 "People in my family who have shrimp trawlers, they always tell me, 'Don't be a fisherman,'" he said. "And I wouldn't want to be. There are no guarantees, no benefits. It's a lot more of a gamble."