David Begnaud: The Spirit of Acadiana Meets the Power of Storytelling

by Shanna Dickens | photography by Cameron Theyard

In a time when success is often measured in clicks, and entertainment thrives on division, national journalist David Begnaud measures the value of his stories by the smiles and tears they evoke and the genuine human connections they foster. As a national contributor for CBS News and a Lafayette native, he has developed an ever-growing body of work that is an earnest reminder of the power of storytelling.

The day we sat down with Begnaud, his energy was electric. He had just come from doing what he loves most, and he recounted the experience with the type of infectious enthusiasm we’ve come to anticipate from the journalist.

“Francis Davis Shaw, who helped integrate Northside High School in the ‘70s as one of its first Black teachers, returned at 80 to teach chemistry,” Begnaud explains. “After hearing her story, Canva donated $25,000, and then another $75,000 for a Community Impact Fund. Then Love Our Schools stepped up and matched the donations for the school.” He chuckles to himself and adds, “When I gave her the $25,000 check, she mumbled, ‘I want to give this to the school,’ and I said, ‘No, don’t worry about that, we got more money.”

As he recounts the story, Begnaud enthusiastically punctuates it with animated gestures and heartfelt claps—a hallmark of his South Louisiana roots and a window into his spirit. “I think it’s the way I tell a story— using my hands and speaking from the heart—that stands out,” he muses. “Early on, people thought I was too dramatic, but that’s just how we communicate in our culture. As I climbed the ladder, I refused to let others change who I am, and today, I’m proud to say ‘y’all’ on television and to come back and tell stories in Louisiana.

Begnaud made a name for himself nationally as the lead correspondent for CBS News, where his thoughtful approach to even the most hard-hitting news stories gained an enthusiastic following, giving birth to a new segment called “Dear David.” Viewers from across the country began to send him letters about ordinary people doing extraordinary things, and Begnaud quickly realized he’d found his sweet spot in journalism. He approached his bosses at CBS and together they came up with a solution that would allow him to follow his heart and develop a broader range of stories in a way that has become his signature approach to journalism. “I stepped back from my correspondent role so as not to blur the lines and became a contributor, which gives me more creative freedom and leeway to engage with stories and characters in ways that allow me to help change their day, a minute of their day, or maybe their life.”

It’s not just Begnaud’s ability to exude drama with finesse and tell a story with compassion—Acadiana shaped his heart as much as his voice. It’s the region’s deep sense of generosity and community that became the foundation of his career, instilling in him the belief that storytelling is, at its core, an act of service. It’s a lesson reinforced by his teacher Josette Cook Surratt, who ingrained in him the importance of giving back, and by mentor Maria Placer, who believed in him enough to put him on television at just 18 years old.

“I spent Christmases with Maria at the Channel 10 station, watching her open the back door for families in need, giving them gifts from boxes donated by viewers,” recalls Begnaud. “Her family would call, asking when she’d be home, and she’d say, ‘In two hours,’ but we both knew she’d stay until late, ensuring every family was helped.” Begnaud’s eyes brighten as he seems to piece together the weight of significance in his mind. “Maria taught me that at the heart of this business is public service. She led the news with stories of neighbors helping neighbors—stories no one else in the country would have aired—but here, they resonated deeply, and the ratings proved it. She showed me that community is what matters most, shaping how I see my career and storytelling today.”

As Begnaud talks through his career path, he occasionally recounts some of the more impactful stories he’s had the opportunity to be involved with. Like the woman in Fort Worth who volunteered to drive her blind neighbor to work and another neighbor to chemotherapy. The story was so inspirational that a car dealership in Philadelphia bought her a brand new vehicle. Then there are the sisters from Thibodaux, who aged out of the foster care system but grew up to be An American Foster Care Success Story. Or the time a patient with Guillain Barre Syndrome was reunited with the nurse who had lovingly closed her eyes for her every night when she was paralyzed. Even the casual relaying of these stories elicits emotional response—because while it may be their story, Begnaud wants it to become yours.

“I tell people that if my team is doing a story on them, it’s not for them,” he explains emphatically. “It’s for everyone who sees it and says, ‘I saw the best of you, and I want to be the best of myself.’ I’m not trying to change your life. I’m trying to change your minute. I’m trying to change wherever you are in life at that very second. I want your heart to do a little happy surge. I’m trying to activate hearts and make connections in a really honest way.”

This approach to narrating the most intimate moments of people’s lives is rooted in a deep understanding of the human experience. It’s not just about the happy surge because, as Begnaud explains, there can be no triumph without sadness. He believes that the most compelling stories are those that embrace both the highs and the lows, because that is where you find the true texture of life’s journey.

“Trauma is a teacher,” Begnaud says. “I’ve learned that if someone has trauma, there’s an onion to peel and there are layers to reveal. Even though I operate in an optimistic space, I know I can’t do that without the other side. I don’t shy away from those stories.”

As he explains it, Begnaud’s own layers reveal that being a kid with Tourette’s Syndrome and being gay, he became accustomed to sitting in the corner of a room by himself. To see where he is today, a beloved journalist and celebrated champion for the everyman, it’s easy to see why he so artfully illustrates the arcs in people’s lives.

“On headstones, there’s a date the person was born, and the date they died,” he expounds. “In that dash is an entire life story. Our lives can get reduced so much. It humbles me to have the ability to share any person’s story. It has given me great perspective.”

Indeed, Begnaud takes the most remarkable part of the dash and makes it special to us all. ■