Todd Russell, one of two Beaconsfield miners trapped underground for 14 nights in 2006, has died age 54 after a long illness. It was a quiet end for a man whose ordeal once captivated the entire country.At 9.23pm on April 25, 2006, a rockfall at the Beaconsfield gold mine killed miner Larry Knight, with two others presumed dead.But on April 30, Russell and Brant Webb were discovered to still be alive one kilometre underground. There they would remain for the next ten days, until rescuers finally broke through on May 9.Russell and Webb walked out of the mine with their fists raised – a scene that became the most-watched weekday television event of 2006.But as inspiring and cautionary as their survival was, the real story of Beaconsfield is less about the mine, and more about the space it continues to occupy in our cultural memory.Twenty years later, the name of that small Tasmanian town evokes one of the most pivotal moments in modern Australian history.Fuelled by the media machineAs two decades of news coverage since has made clear, when entertainment values collide with the duty to inform, entertainment tends to win.A constellation of television network stars orbited Beaconsfield, eager to claim the story for their network. None was bigger than then-Channel Nine chief executive Eddie McGuire, with star power, real economic muscle and the nickname “Eddie Everywhere”.Eddie personally secured the miners’ first public appearance on Nine’s The Footy Show, during which Russell told Eddie:Tell me how big your chequebook is and we’ll talk.This was followed by a two-hour interview with Tracy Grimshaw, won after a bidding war for a reported sum between $2.75 and $3 million. It was the first time chequebook journalism had been presented so publicly in Australia as accepted practice, and something to be celebrated.“Newstainment”, previously the province of satire and down-market tabloid shows, was suddenly mainstream.Repackaged as entertainmentRussell said the media frenzy lasted about 18 months, after which he was left feeling like he’d lost his identity. Yet his and Webb’s story stayed alive in the collective memory as a quintessential example of Australian resilience – told and retold over the years.Nine’s owner at the time, PBL (Publishing and Broadcasting Limited), spread the story across its magazines in the months that followed, with a “male” angle on mateship and a “female” one on love and family. Common to both was the celebration of the miners’ steadfastness, not only during the period of being trapped underground, but also over the days and months of reconnection that followed their rescue.A book by journalist Tony Wright, titled Bad Ground: Inside the Beaconsfield Mine Rescue, was released in time for Christmas that same year, and sold around 1.6 million copies in Australia alone.It was a blend of no-nonsense reporting, mining folklore and back-stories on all the featured participants. It reinforced not only the miners’ fortitude, but also that of the rescuers and the town itself – making the claim for Beaconsfield as another quintessential example of Australians triumphing over harsh and unforgiving environments.While trapped in the mine, Russell and Webb had requested an iPod with Foo Fighters’ songs to keep their spirits up. Foo Fighters front man Dave Grohl responded by writing the acoustic instrumental track The Ballad of the Beaconsfield Miners in 2007. The choice of “ballad” in the title explicitly connects the miners’ experience to heroic tradition. Last night, Grohl played the song once again in tribute to Russell, during a show at Sydney’s Accor Stadium. The story extended to the screen, too. The Beaconsfield telemovie was broadcast on Nine in 2012, the same year the mine ceased operation. Filmed on location at the town, with the miners as technical advisors, the film recounted the mine collapse from the perspectives of the trapped men, their rescuers, their family and the media. Once more, the miners’ experiences were framed in terms of their endurance and ingenuity in the face of horror: men made heroic by the way they responded to a dire situation. A 2016 photo of then-Opposition Leader Bill Shorten pictured with Beaconsfield mine survivors Todd Russell (left) and Brant Webb during a visit to Beauty Point, Tasmania. AAP Image/Scott Gelston The Beaconsfield mine was rebranded in 2008 as a heritage centre and tourist attraction, which includes a display on the 2006 mine disaster and rescue. This has helped cement the event as central to the town’s identity, and carries on those narratives of resilience, endurance and heroism for future generations. Fame through misfortuneIn some ways, the contrast between the media landscapes of 2006 and 2026 is stark. Russell announced his final days himself, on social media. An early tribute from Tasmanian Premier Jeremy Rockliff also appeared online before broadcasters even picked up the story.Audiences who once waited for the nightly bulletin can now follow events in real time, and add their own comments and tributes. But the media machine built around Beaconsfield persists; it is embedded into industry practice. Newstainment remains the mainstream model of commercial news reporting, and chequebook journalism remains commonplace.Jason Bainbridge has previously received funding from the ACT Government.