Haydn Jones and local heroes

Haydn Jones gets a helping hand from Taita local Laura Chattington. Photo / Anthony Phelps

At 34, TV reporter/presenter Hadyn Jones may be familiar for his baby face, wire-rimmed specs and rolling Rs, but he's still best known for that Nicky Watson interview. You know, the one on 20/20 in 2006 when she spilled all sorts of intimate details, and he asked if her breasts were real ("No"). Nicky Watson: The Naked Truth won the Eating Media Lunch Perv of the Year Award. "But that's the polar opposite of what I'm doing now," Jones says with unflappable good humour.

Don't go dismissing him as a lightweight celeb-chaser. The former Holmes and Close Up reporter's trophies include Best Current Affairs Reporter (2006 Qantas TV Awards) for a 20/20 drug-dealer exposè. Sidestepping to One News in 2007, he brought politics to the people during his Election 08 roadtrip, and quickly became the human-interest go-to-guy. In January, seeking a new challenge, he swapped the One News vest for the Good Morning couch, and Auckland for Wellington, with wife Zanta and daughter Marley, now 7 months.

His first thought on getting the Good Morning co-host gig - after the surprise had sunk in - was wondering if he could keep custody of his "other baby": Good Sorts. He could. That's the One News segment which celebrates unsung Kiwis doing, well, good. "It's on Sunday nights after Jim [Hickey] does the weather." From the first Good Sort, a Whangarei 7-year-old who led a march against the council dumping sewage into the harbour, to a Waikato grandmother who took on raising triplets, Jones has told stories from all over the country and all walks of life.

Nominations made via the TVNZ website (where you can download and comment on Good Sorts stories) pop up in Jones' inbox. Sifting through his Outlook email folder, where 526 submissions are waiting, he admits he finds it hard to choose, and just as hard to name a few examples. "They all deserve a mention."

It's hard to get a word in edgeways as he launches into tales such as the Auckland Hospital cancer-wing traffic warden who finds parks for everyone, but doesn't know whether his regulars have died or gotten better. Or the Queenstown fundraiser ("the only Good Sort who'd passed") who became the first to use the heart-start machine, which keeps the body going until organs can be taken.

Pausing for breath, Jones makes a confession. "Like any good idea, this was partially stolen." In 2007, on a TVNZ "fact-finding mission" at CNN, he saw a series, Heroes, about people who save lives. "I liked the concept of celebrating people. People who don't have to save lives to do good." His boss also liked the idea, and they went for a name that fitted the more low-key Kiwi culture. But, knowing that good-news media segments had failed before, Jones wasn't sure how long Good Sorts would run. Fast forward to its first birthday on Tuesday, and the response has been such that he's been told to 'lock it in indefinitely'.

Sure, TV news likes to end or go to ad breaks on a feel-good note, as people feeling positive are primed to purchase. But, cynicism aside, is a jaded public sick of doom and gloom crying out for good news? "Yeah, people do come up and say 'Thanks, there's too much crime and politics and bad things in the news'." Perhaps the good-news-doesn't-sell ethos becomes redundant when a story's told and packaged right.

And Jones has that knack of getting people to warm up and open up to him. "Some people think these stories are easy, but there's a trick to them because I like to find a surprise in each one. You just need to take the time, and trust there'll be a good story there." For instance, one Good Sort ran a walking school bus, not that noteworthy on its own. But Jones discovered his son had died in Papua New Guinea, and they'd never found the plane. "People get something out of giving back. For many, it replaces something they've lost."

Meanwhile, as the purveyor of good news, he doesn't get people slamming the door on spotting a camera. Although there have been a few nos. "Some are shy. It's the Kiwi knocking machine. They don't want to stick their head above the parapet."

This tall poppy isn't worried about his human-interest pigeonhole. "I've naturally gravitated in that direction, but all journalism should be interesting and involve humans." Still, he'd rather interview Doug from Dannevirke than, say, Nicky Watson. "I'd kind of forgotten that people, ordinary people, aren't ordinary. Everyone's interesting. Even if it's just a small window, it's a great view in."

Some submissions are strange, amusing, or strangely amusing. Brief missives from kids often arrive. "Like this: 'My dad is the best. You should come and see him, he's a good sort.' And here's a teenager who likes her parents - there's a headline for you. Oh, here's one from 10.09 this morning, from Kelly in Paraparaumu. Her husband's friend recently bought a Four Square on her dog-walking route, and what did he do? He bought a large aluminium dog dish and he puts it outside so the dog-walkers can refuel their dog. I'm not sure that that will make it, but you never know."

Busy with Good Morning until 2pm, Jones fits in Good Sorts in the afternoons and the odd weekend. It's not just something he's passionate about and looks forward to, it has changed him. "It's made me think how little I do to help others," he mulls, brushing off a comment that he's helping others by telling their stories - and spurring others to good deeds. For instance, the story on a prison music teacher whose students write and produce songs which he delivers to them on CD prompted a viewer to ask where to sign up for a similar programme.

"It's funny," Jones muses, "when you're 20 and 30, you're kind of focused on your own little world, and you can become quite self-centred. Good Sorts has reminded me of the bigger picture."

Good Sorts airs Sundays on TV One's One News around 6.55pm.