By Erika Angulo, Reporter, NBC News

MARION, Iowa -- More than 950 miles from Capitol Hill, a group of Iowa mothers has teamed up to keep the federal government shutdown from affecting the health of babies in their community.  They're handing out baby food, formula and cereal to low-income mothers who depend on a federally-funded nutrition program for women, infants and children, also known as WIC.

"We're just a bunch of women that got together and want to help each other out," said Teresa Diers, a volunteer with the group Helping Hands During the WIC Freeze. Volunteers coordinate efforts through the group's Facebook page. 

Diers is one of hundreds of Americans across the country helping those impacted by the shutdown. She got involved because she was concerned babies who get their nourishment through WIC would start suffering after the program's money runs out.

Courtesy of Teresa Diers

Four-year-old twins Revee and Trevin Diers, the children of Teresa Diers, have both benefited from the WIC program.

The program helped her own family when her husband lost his job and finances became very tight four years ago. The Diers have four children including a boy, 15, who struggles with autism and a girl, 4, who has been on a feeding tube for most of her life.   

"It's very important that we give these babies everything they can get right now for proper brain growth," Diers said.

Some 65,900 families rely on WIC in Iowa alone. 

Neighbors helping neighbors

Courtesy of Teresa Diers

Sunny Story, an Iowa resident, drops off more than $175 in baby food, formula and cereal for the group Helping Hands During the WIC Freeze.

Over in Colorado, Alpine Bank has set aside $13 million to loan furloughed federal workers interest-free money until they start getting paid again.

"The people we are trying to help are our neighbors, their kids go to school with our kids, we see them at church, they are the folks who live and work in our community," said bank president Glen Jammaron.  Federal workers need to bring their last pay stub as proof of employment. So far 40 people have taken advantage of the loan offer that started last week. 

In Oklahoma City, Okla., owners of the La Gumbo Ya Ya food truck are giving furloughed employees free meals. Workers just have to show up with the furlough notices. Some of the items on the menu: crab gumbo, sausage jambalaya and bread pudding.

And at Curley's House, a community outreach center in Miami, Fla., assistant director LaVerne Holliday says she has seen hundreds more come through the center's doors since the shutdown started, as many as 400 a day.

"A lot of people that have lost their jobs and are not working, need the benefits and need to eat," she said. Their food bank is running low in donations, especially milk and baby formula.

"Mothers are having to dilute the milk to be able to stretch it," said Curley's House founder Lavern Scott. "That's affecting the way the child is going to develop mentally and heart-wise, so that's causing a real serious health issue."  

'I didn't realize how kind people were'

Back in Marion, Iowa, Danika Sam is grateful for the efforts of the women running the Helping Hands During WIC Freeze program.

"When the shutdown happened I was like, 'Oh my gosh, what are we gonna do?,'" said Sam, who brought her baby daughter to pick up formula at a volunteer's home. "It definitely helps us get by."

Volunteer Sarah Bush has made room in her garage to store the boxes of donations. Helping other mothers has taught her a lesson.

"I was very surprised with how many people were willing to help," she said. "I didn't realize how kind people were until we did this."

Victoria Moll Ramirez contributed to this report.

A top general in charge of the U.S. Air Force's arsenal of nuclear ballistic missiles has been relieved of his command due to loss of trust, defense officials told NBC News.

Air Force officials said Maj. Gen. Michael Carey was fired for “personal misbehavior” while on temporary duty at an unspecified location outside his usual command. The officials would not describe the behavior, other than to say that it did not involve any sexual improprieties, drug use, gambling, or criminal conduct.

Carey oversaw the 20th Air Force, with a total of 450 intercontinental ballistic missiles at three locations across the U.S.

An Air Force statement said that Carey was relieved from command “due to a loss of trust and confidence in his leadership and judgment.” The statement goes on to say that “the allegations are not related to operational readiness, inspection results, nor do they involve sexual misconduct.”

Gen. James Kowalski, the commander of the Air Force Global Strike Command, made the decision to relieve Carey of his command. The firing came after a months-long investigation by the Air Force Inspector General into reports of personal misbehavior by the major general. A separate Air Force investigation into Carey continues, and will determine whether he should be disciplined or forced out of the service.

“20th AF continues to execute its mission of around-the-clock nuclear deterrence in a safe, secure and effective manner,” Kowalski said in an Air Force statement. “It’s unfortunate that I’ve had to relieve an otherwise distinctive career spanning 35 years of commendable service.”

Regarding Carey’s position in charge of nuclear weaponry, a senior Air Force official said: “It’s a job that demands great trust and responsibility, and personal behavior is vital to that.”

Carey enlisted in the Air Force in 1978, according to his official biography, and attended the University of Central Florida, where he graduated in 1982 with a degree in history.

He was promoted to the rank of major general in Nov. 2011, according to his Air Force bio, and served in Operation Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom.

It is the second firing of a top-ranking commander with authority over nuclear weapons in the past week. Navy Vice Adm. Tim Giardina was demoted to the from the three-star rank to two and relieved of his post as second in command of U.S. nuclear forces at U.S. Strategic Command amidst a gambling investigation, the Associated Press reported.

The United States has an estimated 2,150 deployed nuclear warheads, according to a recent estimate published in the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists. Intercontinental ballistic missiles are capable of carrying multiple warheads.

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

This story was originally published on Fri Oct 11, 2013 12:08 PM EDT

Frank Thorp, NBC News

The Ohio Clock stopped ticking Wednesday because the workers charged with maintaining it have been furloughed.

The government shutdown has stopped the Senate's historic Ohio Clock.

The team of curators that wind the 11-foot tall, nearly 200-year-old clock every week have been furloughed, the Secretary of the Senate confirms to NBC News. It was last wound on Monday, Sept. 30 -- and more than a week into the shutdown, its hands are now frozen at 12:14.

Roll Call newspaper reported that it stopped at 12:14 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon.

The Ohio Clock dates to 1815, when Sen. David Daggett asked for a clock with "the dial to be about two feet in diameter, an hour, minute and second hand, a Spread eagle on the top and the United States arms at foot."

The clock arrived in the Senate in 1817, and initially sat in the Old Senate chamber. It was moved to its current location outside the modern Senate chamber in 1859.

No one knows where the clock got its name, but it's been long rumored that senators hid bottles of whiskey inside it.

Today, it serves as a landmark for reporters and senators alike, who gather almost daily in the "Ohio Clock corridor." Senators hold formal press conferences there -- and reporters crowd around other lawmakers who are just passing through.

There are a number of other historic clocks in the Senate that have also stopped, including one in Vice President Joe Biden's ceremonial office, according to the Secretary of the Senate.

The curators maintain all of the historic objects in the Capitol, including the artwork, period furnishings and the clocks.

The curators are specially trained to wind historic timepieces. The Ohio Clock is nearly 200 years old, and over time, inexperienced people have sometimes wound the clock too tightly, threatening to do permanent harm.

The head curator emailed the Secretary of the Senate's office ahead of the furloughs to say that the clocks would likely stop after a week of ticking.

It's not known when it last stopped ticking. In 1983, a bomb that exploded outside the Senate chamber shattered the glass covering of the clock, but didn't damage its workings beyond repair. In August 2010, the clock was moved out of the Capitol and sent to be refurbished.

By Michelle Melnick, Producer, NBC News

ISLAND PARK, N.Y. -- A group of firefighters is making sure the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary School tragedy are never forgotten by building playgrounds – 26 of them – each honoring a student or teacher who lost their life.  

As they help Newtown families heal, they’re also helping communities rebuild -- because each will be in an area ravaged by Superstorm Sandy.

The idea of a playground "was more than just a structure or a place for kids to play on,” said New Jersey firefighter Capt. Bill Lavin and founder of The Sandy Ground: Where Angels Play. “It was a symbol of hope.” 

To date there are 10 playgrounds across New Jersey, Connecticut and New York, all built by volunteers with donated equipment.

Last week, in Island Park, N.Y., dozens of professional firefighters, police officers, construction workers and community members spent the day building in honor of 6-year-old Caroline Previdi.

Lavin describes Caroline as a young girl who "liked the New York Yankees and liked the Giants. And liked the color pink.” He said she was a "very thoughtful, generous child -- so to imagine that Caroline will be watching over the kids that will play on this playground, and they will know the story of Caroline -- I think it's a wonderful story."

One of the volunteers helping construct Caroline’s playground was Carlos Soto, whose 27-year-old daughter Victoria died protecting her students at Sandy Hook. 

"She was taken away too quick,” he said, with tears in his eyes. "But what she did, I will never forget. She saved 17 kids and gave her life.” 

Soto remembers when President Obama came to Newtown after the tragedy to speak with victims’ family members .

"He [President Obama] goes, 'Carlos…What she did, my people are trained for. She was never trained. They go in front of me to take the bullet. She went in front of her kids to take the bullet for them.’"

Soto lives just a few blocks away from his daughter's park in Stratford, Conn., which was decorated in pink and green.  They chose pink because she loved flamingos, and green because Christmas was her favorite holiday.  He says spending time there helps him stay positive.

“I know that my daughter and her students are looking down at what we're doing," Soto said. "That's what makes me happy and proud."

The firefighters in the New Jersey Firefighters’ Mutual Benevolence Association, who are spearheading the project, have made Soto an honorary member. He describes them as part of his “new family,” along with others who lost loved ones on that tragic day in Newtown.

"Once you're a part of it, it's addicting,” said Rebecca Kowalski, whose 7-year-old son Chase Kowalski died in the elementary school massacre. “You get this great camaraderie feeling. You get this sense of, you know, I lost my son but I'm making a difference someplace else and people are honoring our son because of that." 

She and her husband Stephen helped build a playground for Chase in New Jersey's Normandy Beach. Their son loved sports and finished his first triathlon when he was 6 years old, which is why on the day of the ribbon cutting, his sisters passed out 26 soccer balls to 26 children.

"They had a flag with Chase's name and the number eight for his baseball number…eight is just so appropriate. It was his baseball number but I take it to the next level and I look at the infinity sign and it makes the number 8, so that's our love," Rebecca said.

For Capt. Bill Lavin, the Sandy Ground Project is as much about resilience and rebuilding, as it is about healing.  

“The amazing faith of these families, it’s really a privilege to work with them and have them – well, now I feel they’re my family. It’s just a blessing,” he said. "If we could give them a day or just a little window of hope and help them get through anybody's worst nightmare, it is something we'll never forget."

To learn more about the Sandy Ground Project, please visit their website. 

In "Jacob's Oath," a novel by Martin Fletcher, World War II is winding to a close and Europe's roads are clogged with 20 million exhausted refugees walking home. Among them are Jacob and Sarah, lonely Holocaust survivors who meet and fall in love in Heidelberg. But Jacob is consumed with hatred and cannot rest until he has killed his brother’s murderer, a concentration camp guard nicknamed "The Rat." Now he must choose between love and revenge, the past and the future. Here is an excerpt: 

Berlin, April 29, 1945

      Sarah sensed it first in her bare feet, the faintest quivering of the ground. She looked up and cocked her head, her right hand rising to pull her shirt tight at the throat. Her left hand held a squashed tin bucket. She had been about to leave her shelter to see if the water pump on Dorfstrasse was working. It had been dry for two days.

      The tremor grew and her body trembled with it. That’s strange, she thought, observing her own body. Is it the ground moving? Is it the cold?

      Fear?

      It sounded like a cat’s purr.

      It became louder. The cracked window-frame rattled and cement flakes shook loose and fluttered to the floor. Larger bits dislodged and fell with a thud. The rumble became a growl and then a continuous roar and the basement walls shook so much Sarah cowered in a corner in case more of the ceiling crashed down on her.

      The mirror fell to the floor, shattering into a dozen shards.

      Sarah flinched and thought, seven years bad luck. But: how much worse can it get?

      She looked at the trembling door-frame and knew it could get much worse, quickly. She knew now what it was.

      It was the rumble of tanks and armored cars. The Germans pulling out or the Russians moving in. Either way, thousands of marching men. She knew, if they’re German, they’ll kill me, if they’re Russian, they’ll rape me. She had to stay hidden. She was safe underground. But for how long?

      Her shelter was already a pile of rubble from the bombs. Inside the basement room she had built four low walls from loose bricks and smashed wooden rafters and for two weeks had slept and hid in the dusty space between them. A sheet of tin on top kept in some warmth.

      Sarah looked down at the empty bucket and her tongue flickered across her dry lips. No drop of water had passed them for two days.

      By afternoon it was clear. She could hear loud voices with those strangled long vowels and hissing sounds, the shouted orders, the revving of engines, the dragging of equipment outside, and from upstairs, barely, the hushed voices and fearful tiptoeing of Herr and Frau Eberhardt.

      Sarah thought, I should feel happy. The Russians are here which means the war must be over, or will be soon. And she did feel a kind of relief that washed through her body and made her blood feel heavy. It weighed her down. So tired! Now what? Still she did not emerge from her hiding place.

      Sarah lay behind her low wall of debris, dusty, thirsty, exhausted, too scared to move, every nerve on edge. Looking at the door, listening to the street, she was thinking of Hoppi, and the little one, who she had never had the joy of knowing. How hard it had been. And all she had done to survive. That had led her here, to now. Sarah closed her eyes and flopped against the wall, legs straight out, her head to one side, arms hanging to the floor. I’ll get up in a moment, she thought. Go outside and ask for water. Hope they don’t rape me. Maybe it’s safer in a crowd after all, they won’t touch me there. It’s more dangerous here, if someone finds me alone. Yes, it’s safer outside.

      Sarah made to move, but couldn’t. A few moments more, she thought, close your eyes, think of Hoppi. Her lips  moved with her thoughts. She was used to talking to herself.

      Their first year or two on the run hadn’t been too bad, thanks to their friends. Gunther. Sasha. Elinora. The old lady who they hadn’t even known, who had just offered, what was her name, with white hair? Can’t remember. Peter and his wife. The ones who listened to the BBC on the wireless. They’d all risked their lives to help her and Hoppi, given them shelter.

      In the early days they could even take off the yellow stars, walk across town, go to a café. It was strange, it didn’t weigh anything, that little bit of yellow cloth, but they both felt lighter without it. They didn’t have ration cards so their hosts shared their food and helped them find ways to earn money. They had risked their lives for two terrified Jews. There were enough good Germans, in the beginning at least. They went from safe-house to safe-house, leaving each before Nazi neighbors could become suspicious; a week here, if they were lucky a month there. Not that it was easy. Creeping in their apartments like mice, only using the toilet when their friends did, never running water from the tap, always terrified of the nosy concierge, of a rap on the door at four in the morning. Still. A little smile of thanks played on Sarah’s lips. She licked them with her dry tongue. She’d have to get up in a minute though, find some water.

      ‘U-boots’. Submarines. That’s what we are, she was thinking, as she lay in the dust, there were thousands of us. Once. Jews, submerged. Living underground, out of sight. Others too: gypsies, communists. So-called enemies of the Reich, a subterranean sub-culture, hunted by the Gestapo, with no papers, no homes, where one false step, one miscalculation, one nasty neighbor, meant torture and death. It was worst in the winter, it was so cold. By day they rode the subway, the S-bahn or U-bahn, changing all the time so that inspectors wouldn’t notice them and ask for their ID card which had J for Jew stamped on it. By night they slept in the station toilets, locking the door, and had to wake early to leave before the cleaners came. In the summer it wasn’t so bad. They could sleep under bushes in the woods or the parks.

      Hoppi, remember in the Tierpark? Jews weren’t allowed but we sat on a bench without our yellow stars. And then we walked along the flower-bed and your shoe-lace was untied and you kept treading on it and tripping up but you didn’t dare stop and bend down to tie it up in case people looked at us. And then, remember the new rule that the warden had to take the names of everybody in the bomb shelters, that was in Holzstrasse, with Peter and his wife, remember?  

      So during the air raids we had to stay in the apartment, and we prayed. Oh, and remember that time we made love during the raid? Oh, it was so beautiful. As if it was our last time. We were mad. But what else was there to do? We could have been dead at any moment. And I know that was the time. As you finished, oh how you shouted in my ear, I said quiet! they’ll hear us. And you said don’t worry, there are too many bombs. We were on the floor, under the bed, I said to you, right then and there, we just made a baby.

      Our baby. Tears rolled down Sarah’s cheeks. Oh, our baby. So long ago, so very long ago. Hoppi, we were so young then, you and I.

      We were twenty-three and I loved you so.

      Sarah talked to Hoppi every day. Could he hear? Who was she to say no?

      She heard footsteps above. The lighter ones of Frau Eberhardt, who was the only neighbor to ever ask how she was; the heavier, more plodding steps of her older, frail husband. They aren’t so scared any more, she thought. They’ve stopped tiptoeing. With so much of the ceiling missing, Sarah could make out their tiniest movement. She hoped they wouldn’t fall through the floor. Sarah wondered: did they hang white flags? The Russians are right outside. Will they come in? They’ll have to. They’ll check the buildings for fighters, for guns.

      But she was too tired to move. She had survived. But what for? What’s left? Who else? 

By Jim Maceda, Correspondent, NBC News

You don't get a sense of just how big the Bolshoi Theater actually is until you stand backstage. Prior to the opening act of Swan Lake, David Hallberg, the first American to be named a Bolshoi principal dancer, was warming up at the far end of the cavernous stage. It looked as though he was half a football field away. As Hallberg leaped and spun, another dancer loosened up by jogging around Hallberg, using the edge of the stage floor like laps on a track.

It’s a stage built for the biggest corps de ballet on the planet -- some 230 dancers, who now seem to be in sync after a nightmare year that was capped off by a sulfuric acid attack on the company’s 42-year-old artistic director, former dance star Sergei Filin.

Not only was Filin disfigured and partially blinded, but the attack appeared to be an inside job: a top Bolshoi dancer, Pavel Dmitrichenko, confessed to masterminding the crime.

Hallberg, who was personally hired by Filin, summed up the shock and revulsion that rocked the historic theater: "Every leader has a vision, and some people agree with it and some don’t,’" he told NBC News between rehearsals. "But you should never take it to the level it was taken to. And especially when a house such as the Bolshoi is trying to create art to serve as escapism for the public, which it has done for hundreds of years.’’

NBC News

David Hallberg, the first American to be named a Bolshoi principal dancer.

As difficult as it may be for foreigners to grasp, in a country like Russia, where ballet is sacred, the rivalries and jealousy between Bolshoi dancers and management had reached breaking point. Part of the underlying problem was money. A carryover from Soviet days, Bolshoi dancers are paid a meager monthly salary but can earn large bonuses for successful solo performances. Filin, as artistic director, could make or break a dancer’s career.  Every choice for leading roles reverberated throughout the small village that is the Bolshoi. And it was known that Filin rankled Dmitrichenko by passing over his girlfriend for several of those lucrative, leading roles.

"It had a lot to do with this system of payment and casting performances on the basis of who you like and who you don’t like," said veteran music critic Raymond Stults, a New York native who has covered the Bolshoi in Moscow for decades.  Surprisingly, Stults says, the Bolshoi dancers don’t blame Dmitrichenko for the brazen attack as much as they blame the Russian system.

"They tell me it’s the political system here," he said.  "The way Russia is run. The kind of life that has arisen here over the last 13 years."

When asked if he was referring to the time period after Putin came to power, he would not say -- but Stults did add this: "There’s a lot of brutality in the system, for instance, a lot of journalists have been murdered. I think that’s what the dancers are talking about."

But after eight months and 22 operations to save his eyesight, Filin is back at his old job, and the Bolshoi -- which means "big" in Russian -- seems to be turning a new leaf. One top dancer, Nikolai Tsiskaridze, was let go in June. His disputes with management and unfiltered ambition to become the Bolshoi’s next boss are thought to have stoked tension -- and sapped energy -- within the dance company. The managing director, Filin’s boss, was also fired, and replaced by a veteran manager with a reputation for compromise and soothing nerves. 

David Hallberg, the first American to be named a Bolshoi principal dancer.

It all seems to be paying off. The Bolshoi has just come off a magic three-week run in London’s Covent Garden, and rave reviews for Swan Lake, the Bolshoi’s season opener, marked a clear return to a classical repertory that Hallberg believes will put the company back on track.

Hallberg, who spends half his time dancing at the American Ballet Theater, said the Bolshoi dancers "are like dancers anywhere else in the world. They want to dance successfully in a company, as best they can. Nothing’s changed, really, it’s just, post-[acid attack], I think the [Bolshoi] dancers are much more ready to move on and dance the repertoire they’re dancing and tour the world.’’

In doing so, the Bolshoi is getting back to the basics, seeking to rebuild its image and become -- not just the biggest -- but the best, once again.

Jim Maceda is a veteran NBC News foreign correspondent (and classical music junkie) based in London. He was recently on assignment in Moscow.

The widow of one of the 12 Americans killed in the 1998 East Africa embassy bombings said the capture of alleged mastermind Anas al Libi this weekend sends the message that terrorists can't escape "the long arm of justice."

Deborah Hobson lost her husband, Army Sgt. Kenneth R. Hobson, in the bombing of the U.S. Embassy in Nairobi, Kenya on Aug. 7, 1998. He was assigned to the U.S. Army defense attache there as an administrative specialist. 

"It's soothing to know that our government is still after them and methodically and deliberately going after them," Hobson told NBC News' Richard Engel. 

Al Libi allegedly was a key player in the planning of the bombings, which killed a dozen Americans and more than 200 Kenyans and Tanzanians in Nairobi and Dar Es Salaam, the Tanzanian capital.

U.S. special forces whisked al Libi off the streets of the Libyan capital of Tripoli Saturday. He will be taken to the United States to stand trial for his alleged role in the bombings.

Hobson said al Libi's capture sends the message to other terrorists that "the long arm of justice is long-suffering and patient and we'll come after them. They, they're not able to hide."

Of the 21 people originally indicted in the embassy bombings case by the U.S. Justice Department (.pdf), eight have been killed, including Osama bin Laden, one died awaiting trial, and another eight are in jail, either convicted or awaiting trial.

A 22nd man, Ali Mohamed, a former Egyptian intelligence officer who later worked for U.S. Army Special Forces, was picked up just a couple of weeks after the bombing and is now serving life without parole.

Al Libi was one of four remaining fugitives until Saturday. 

Hobson said she was thankful to those who kept working to bring al Libi to justice.

"I'm so thankful for the people who have spent years doing this, I mean this has taken many years of work and many people have dedicated their lives to this search," she said.

Related:

• Al Qaeda leader seized in Libya was on FBI's Most Wanted list
• US will interrogate terror suspect aboard warship
• SEAL Somalia target named as Ikrima

By Kayla Tausche, Correspondent, CNBC

ATHENS, Mich. – Kellie Lindsey, a lifelong resident of Athens, long daydreamed about having a Starbucks or McDonald's in town -- but a bank? That's something she equates with luxury.

Athens has nearly 1000 residents -- and a handful of home-grown businesses, like the inspection company Lindsey runs -- but no bank branch.

"I would go make a deposit Monday through Friday daily," Lindsey said. "I think it was really taken for granted. Who would ever think that the bank would close?" 

Ever since the financial crisis, banks have been paring down, selling off businesses and closing up shop. And even though residents of isolated, rural areas are the customers that use banks in-person the most, it's often America's small towns that find branches boarded up and businesses struggling to regroup.

Southern Michigan Bank & Trust occupied the most prime real estate in town: a corner lot with a costly vault and a handful of customer services used to help residents in town with accounts and loans. It closed in 2011. The bank's chairman and chief executive officer John Castle said in a letter that the financial crisis had hurt business in Athens, and the amount of loans and deposits had started to decline. The decision wasn't easy, Castle wrote, and "unfortunately, not every small town or village can financially support a bank."

Now that the bank has closed, foot traffic has fallen noticeably, Lindsey said as she surveyed the town's main intersection. "This town was a lot busier. It looked a lot different than it does today.”

Losing the local branch means more than an empty lot. For small towns, it brings rising challenges for a town's business. Lindsey says she now spends thousands of dollars each year driving to the branch in Battle Creek, and paying for security to protect the cash that now stays in her storefront overnight. Sherry Hanson says her restaurant, the Copper Kettle, sees its business day interrupted frequently by the burden.

"There have been times when we've called other businesses in town," Hanson said. "Like, 'Hey you got any fives? Hey you got any tens?'"

There are nearly 10 times as many bank branches as Starbucks shops in the United States, but they are becoming less of a necessity. In 1980, 95 percent of households used a bank branch, according to consulting firm AlixPartners. That number is only 50 percent now.

The culprit, said Debbie Bianucci, president of industry group BAI, is online and mobile banking.

Consumers can do more transactions without a teller, so banks have been trimming the number of branches they have open. For three years, banks have been closing more branches than they’ve opened, shutting down more than 2,500 in 2012 alone. And data from SNL Financial shows small-town branches are sacrificed in favor of those in big cities. More foot traffic brings the potential for higher revenue.

Several towns, such as Alburgh, Vt., Six Mile, S.C., Donora, Pa., and Fountain City, Ind., have figured out how to fare without a local branch throughout the years -- and some have resorted to desperate measures to lure one back.

Alburgh and Six Mile both lobbied local credit unions to set up shop in the bank's stead. Six Mile even offered to slash rent in the building to make the move more appealing.

MainSource Bank, the last bank standing in Fountain City, closed this spring, citing the pressure of being a publicly traded company as well as the costs of regulation.

Residents didn't go down without a fight. Some 600 - a majority of the town - petitioned to keep it, but in the end, only the ATM was left.

"I don't know how businesses normally survive outside of having a bank in their town," said John Roberts, who runs the mini mart. "I'm assuming we're going to find out in the very near future."

Family Diner owner Paul Ewen worries about the town’s survival.

"You take some of these smaller towns like Fountain City and the banks and things move out and the next thing you know, there's just a ghost town," he said.

Basic tasks become more inconvenient, said Larry Stegall, Fountain City's town council president.

"A bank is vital to a town just because it's kinda like the heartbeat of the town," Stegall said. "But yeah, we're not gonna roll up the sidewalks cause there's no bank here."

In Athens, residents used to go by the old bank, now occupied by Dave Enders' collectible coin shop. Enders says he wishes the town had a bank -- now he uses the vault to hold valuable inventory. As the new reality sets in, fewer residents come by to inquire about where the bank went.

"Some of them get very angry and walk away swearing," Enders said. "I can hear them through the walls."

Update: Peace First has announced the 10 winners of their peacemaking prize, one of whom -- Nicholas Lowinger -- was profiled above by "Nightly News." Click here to read about how they are making a difference in their communities. 

By Craig Stanley, NBC News

Brooklyn Wright, 11, was in second grade when she first decided to do something about all the litter people leave in their neighborhoods.

"I was in a club called Earth Savers," Brooklyn said. "All they wanted to focus on was the three R's: reduce, reuse and recycle. But I wanted to focus on litter too."

To get kids to listen to her and support her cause, the Atlanta native created Earth Saver Girl -- a superhero -- to spread awareness about litter prevention.

She's now one of 50 students nominated for the Peace First Prize, an award offered for the first time this year that recognizes young people who are inspiring positive change within their communities.

"When we think about peacemakers, we think of Dr. King and Gandhi, and Mother Teresa," said Eric Dawson, founder of nonprofit Peace First. "What we want to do is take that idea of greatness and bring it down to the level of young people."

A national call for young peacemakers -- "those who have confronted injustice, crossed lines of difference, and had the courage and compassion to create lasting change" -- resulted in thousands of applications from across the nation. From the 50 finalists, 10 winners will be selected on Sunday, each receiving a $50,000 two-year peacemaking fellowship.

"We want to say to young people that peacemaking isn't something that you do and are recognized for when you are 70 or 80," Dawson said. "It's something that you do today."

Below, we profile three of the student finalists, including Brooklyn Wright. Check back on Sunday to find out who the winners are. 

VOLUNTEEN NATION

Growing up in St. Louis, finalist Simone Bernstein grew up surrounded by volunteers.

"When I was 12 years old, my dad was deployed in the military, and there were so many people in our community that were driving us places, delivering meals," Bernstein said. "I was so appreciative of what they were doing for my family, and what my dad was doing for our country, so I wanted to give back as well."

Finding the right opportunity, however, wasn't easy. 

"I continued to approach organizations and they refused to allow me to volunteer," Bernstein said. "They claimed that I wasn't old enough, due to safety security and liability concerns. So I eventually found one project to volunteer at, and then later realized that I wanted to help kids who were frustrated, searching for volunteer opportunities find organizations within their communities through Volunteen nation"

At 13 she created St. Louis Volunteen, a website for kids to tap into one of the 55 local organizations listed. And she didn't stop there.

"[My brother] utilized his technological skills and his coding skills to work on the web development side, and I decided to work with other organizations and gain followers and partners throughout the nation," Bernstein said. “It was a project that we worked on together and then ultimately grew by including more youth on our team to be able to support our efforts."

They created Volunteen Nation, a website which features more than 7,500 volunteer opportunities for youth nationwide. The website also serves as an inspiration forum, with ideas for people to start their own volunteer service projects in their communities.

"Our generation wants to give back, and we need to make it an effort for youth to realize that at any age, they can complete a project," Bernstein said. "It doesn't matter what it is, whether its five minutes of your time, an hour of your time. If you're doing something not make the world a better place we want to encourage that and motivate people to do that."

Bernstein, now 21, is a senior at St. Bonaventure University in West New York, where she's managed being a college student -- and getting into medical school -- while running a nonprofit organization. She hopes Volunteen Nation will expand internationally -- with or without her.

"Volunteen nation will not go away once I go to medical school," Bernstein said. "Our idea is that we want it run by a young person, and, we define a young person as anyone under the age of 25. Once I reach 26, I really want other people to experience [running] a non-profit organization."

GOTTA HAVE SOLE

NBC News

Nicholas Lowinger, 15, created a nonprofit that has donated shoes to more than 10,000 kids in 21 states across the US.

Nicholas Lowinger, 15, was named a finalist for the work he does for children in homeless shelters across the nation, inspired by a visit to a shelter at 5 years old.

"Imagine: there were kids my age, who can't go to school every day, can't be with their friends, can't play sports, and those kids can't really be kids," Nicholas said. "A lot of that had to do with the fact that they didn't have shoes that could fit them, or didn't have shoes that were in good condition."

Nicholas began to donate his own shoes to kids in local shelters, and later started collecting donations to send them to kids across the nation. With the help of his parents, he developed a nonprofit organization called Gotta Have Sole, through which he's donated shoes to more than 10,000 kids in 21 states across the US.

Nicholas operates Gotta Have Sole out of his garage at home in Rhode Island, where thousands of shoes are stored. He regularly navigates his shoe collection to fill orders that pour in from homeless shelters across the nation. He has one rule -- the shoes must be new, and something that the kid may actually like.

"A lot of people think that if someone's in a homeless shelter, they'll be happy to get anything, [and] they'll be able to get a used pair of shoes," Nicholas said. "'Cause that's more than they would have had before. That's a terrible mindset, in my opinion."

"When a child has something that's brand new that they get to call their own, they feel better about themselves. Their self-confidence goes up."

Nick plans to expand his nonprofit organization to provide resources for veterans and disadvantaged youth.

"I feel amazing, that I'm able to make it such a big impact at a young age," Nicholas said. "Every time I keep on believing in myself and moving forward, it keeps on getting better. I'm able to help more and more people."

EARTH SAVER GIRL

"I didn't know how kids would take me asking them to help me pick up litter, but I realized it's a thing I need to do," Brooklyn Wright said. "I decided to make the superhero 'cause I thought kids would listen to a superhero besides an ordinary girl like me."

With the help of her mom, Brooklyn published "The Adventures of the Earth Saver Girl, Don't be Litterbug" -- a story based on the superhero who encourages and empowers kids to make change in their community, and pick up after themselves.

Today, Brooklyn travels to schools and events, and performs interactive litter prevention skits for school children, based on her book. She's performed for more than 1000 kids.

"My first mission is to rid the Earth of trash and pollution, but my whole mission together is to save the Earth and have a clean and healthy environment for future generations to enjoy," Brooklyn said.

In addition to being an environmentalist, Brooklyn says she's a peacemaker.

"I consider myself a peacemaker 'cause I started a movement in my community that has kids and adults doing their part to save the earth." She added, "I think it's good that I started working on my mission at a young age, so I can work on it for a lifetime."

This story was originally published on Sat Oct 5, 2013 3:05 PM EDT

By Ronnie Polidoro, NBC News

At 87, Tony Bennett has won 17 Grammys and sold more than 50 million records worldwide. He's best known as a musical artist, however, to the students at Esteban E. Torres High School in East Los Angeles, he’s an educator. 

While growing up in the Queens, N.Y., neighborhood of Astoria, Bennett attended the High School of Industrial Art. In 1999, Bennett opened his own art school, Frank Sinatra School of the Arts, in his old neighborhood and founded Exploring the Arts with his now wife, Susan Benedetto, who he married in 2007. 

Exploring the Arts provides guidance, resources and funding to high school music and arts programs. The program has partnered with 14 public schools in New York City and, as of this year, with three schools in East Los Angeles.

NBC’s Harry Smith met up with Bennett and his wife at Esteban E. Torres High School to check in on the program and their imaginative students.

“I’m thrilled about it,” Bennett told NBC News. “This is a great community because there are more artists in Hollywood than anywhere in the world!”

Since its start, Exploring the Arts has spent more than $8 million to support partner schools, students and teachers – including scholarships, development plans, and apprenticeship programs. There are nearly 60 partner organizations in the apprenticeship program.  Some of the most recognizable are the American Ballet Theatre, the Tribeca Film Institute, and the Los Angeles Opera.

“It’s a dream come true,” said Susan Benedetto, “We have a great group of people making sure Tony's vision is achieved and these kids are given the proper education they deserve.”

Educators at Torres told us impassioned students get better grades and stay in school.

“How do we get smart, engaged, self-directed, empowered kids? Through the arts,” said Principal Carolyn McKnight.

Bennett's Frank Sinatra School of the Arts touts its 95 percent graduation rate and Exploring the Arts hopes they will continue to make a difference with their presence on the West Coast.

For Bennett, “it's the best thing that could ever happen.”

To learn more about the organization Exploring the Arts, please visit their website.

A woman who tried to force her car through a White House security fence Thursday afternoon was shot and killed by police after a 12-block chase past the Capitol, which was locked down for a half-hour, authorities said.

The suspect — a dental hygienist with a history of mental issues, according to sources — had an 18-month old daughter with her who was not hurt, police said.

One Secret Service officer was struck by the woman's car, and a Capitol Police officer was injured when he slammed into a barricade during the pursuit. The unidentified police officer was treated and released Thursday night from MedStar Washington Hospital Center.

Slideshow: Shots fired on Capitol Hill

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The U.S. Capitol was placed on lockdown following a car chase and shooting involving a woman who attempted to ram the White House gates.

Launch slideshow

All the shots fired came from the officers involved in the pursuit, and the woman — identified as Miriam Carey, 34, of Stamford, Conn. — did not have a gun, law-enforcement sources said.

"She was using the car as a weapon," one source said.

Dramatic video showed officers with guns drawn surrounding the woman's black Infiniti before she suddenly sped away. Several shots could be heard as cops took off after her.

“This appears to be an isolated singular matter with no nexus to terrorism,” Capitol Police Chief Kim Dine said at an evening news conference as police and FBI agents converged on the woman's condo complex in Stamford.

President Barack Obama was briefed about the harrowing incident, which came in the midst of the government shutdown that has created a tense atmosphere on Capitol Hill.

For more local coverage, go to NBC Washington

It started at 2:18 p.m. when Carey tried and failed to breach a White House checkpoint, a temporary "outer perimeter" fence  at 15th St. and E St. NW, officials said.

As she fled east on Pennsylvania Ave., she struck a Secret Service officer, and a chase ensued.

Capitol Police caught up to her at Garfield Circle near the Capitol reflecting pool, but she sped off again. An officer in hot pursuit struck a barricade and was hurt, officials said.

The 12-block chase ended at Constitution Ave. and Second St. with Carey mortally wounded, police said. The child was removed from the car by a police officer and taken to the hospital.

The woman's motive was unknown, but investigators said they believe the woman may have been mentally unstable.

"They think she has mental health issues," said Rep. Mike McCaul, chairman of the House Homeland Security Committee, who was briefed by the FBI and Secret Service.

A senior law enforcement official with direct knowledge of the case told NBC News that relatives interviewed by law enforcement officers tell them she suffered from a fall a couple of years ago and began to suffer mental issues.

The Stamford apartment complex where Carey is believed to have lived was surrounded by police lines, fire crews and a decontamination area with tarp Thursday evening. Teams in Hazmat suits appeared to be entering the building just after 9 p.m.

Washington, D.C., Police Chief Cathy Lanier dismissed any suggestion that she had tried to breach security by accident and said the officers "acted heroically."

Travis Gilbert, who watched the high-speed chase from the roof of the Newseum, said there were several close calls as police cars raced after the Infiniti.

"It was very dangerous," he said.

Frank Schwing, 57, a furloughed Commerce Department worker, said he was on the House side of the capitol when he saw police surround the car only to have the driver suddenly hit the gas.

"The sedan backed up and smashed into one of the cruisers, took off again around the south side of the Capitol," Schwing said. "And that's when I heard the gun shots. "

Rep. Gerry Connolly, D-Virginia, who was on the balcony talking to his colleagues, described a "burst" of gunfire from the House side of the Capitol, towards the House office buildings.

"It was like the first volley in a 21-gun salute," Rep. Matthew Cartwright, D-Penn., told MSNBC.

The FBI responded to the scene, and a helicopter landed in front of the Capitol to medevac the injured officer.

A message from the Capitol Police ordered anyone in a House office to "shelter in place." The House recessed, and the Senate went into a quorum call — dispensing momentarily with its official business — shortly thereafter.

“We’ve locked the doors. We closed the window shades. And we are awaiting further instructions,” Rep. Jared Polis, D-Colo., told MSNBC during the lockdown. “We’re more or less cut off here. We’re watching TV and just trying to figure out what happened.”

The lockdown was over around 3 p.m., but nerves were still jangled.

"Shaken is a good word to describe how I'm feeling," said Peter Plocki, a government worker furloughed during the shutdown who was on Capitol Hill to take a tour of the Supreme Court building and heard the shots.

The House reconvened at 3:30 p.m., and Rep. John Culberson, R-Texas, asked for a brief moment of silence in tribute to members of the Capitol Police injured in the incident. The House immediately pivoted back to debate over a small stopgap bill to reinstate funding for veterans’ affairs.

Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, a former U.S. Capitol Police officer, called the injured officer at the hospital. "The only thing I do every day is to make sure you and everyone who works up here is safe," the officer said, according to Reid. 

Congress has been locked for the past week and a half in a contentious debate over funding the government, a disagreement in which contributed to a government shutdown that began Monday.

Last night, Rep. Sean Duffy, R-Wisconsin, was the victim of a "minor incident" outside of the Capitol complex.

"A random individual, unknown to the Congressman, began screaming at him and grabbed his arm," a spokesperson for Duffy said in describing the incident. "Mr. Duffy was unharmed. He reported the incident in compliance with House security procedures. Congressman Duffy has requested no further action be taken and there will be no further comment on the matter at this time."

On September 16, a deadly shooting occurred at the Navy Yard just blocks south of the U.S. Capitol complex which contributed to a partial lockdown of the Capitol at that time.

A shooting on July 24, 1998 left two Capitol Police officers dead. And at a constituent event in her district in January 2011, then-Rep. Gabrielle Giffords, D-Ariz., was seriously injured and six others were killed in a shooting.

NBC News' Jonathan Dienst, Robert Windrem, Shimon Prokupecz, Michael Isikoff, Matthew Cole and Andrew Rafferty contributed to this report.

This story was originally published on Thu Oct 3, 2013 10:14 PM EDT