I knew Tim Russert – although I never met him. I know you know what I mean.
In an era of electronic media as show-business staple, Russert was refreshingly old-school. For openers, he had, as he often acknowledged, “a face for radio.” He was camera comfortable but never mirror mindful. He took the work of political analysis dead seriously; IT was the focus – not him. He was a journalist’s journalist, a pro’s pro; a pre-eminent information enabler.
Russert was always prepared; he wrote his own material; he perfected the nearly lost art of being a good listener; he didn’t interrupt the subject of an interview; he never bullied; and he played to the truth – not to the lens.
Nobody topped Russert in credibility. He was a lawyer whose interviews were depositional – not theatrical. He had worked the other side of the political aisle as an aide and counselor to the late New York Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan and former New York Gov. Mario Cuomo, so he understood the universe of reality. He was ambitious – but never at the expense of others. His shtick was the relentless pursuit of truth. His mantra: “Accountability,” which was reinforced by the nameplate in front of his desk: “Thou Shalt Not Whine.”
He was very important, but never self-important.
Russert was, according to NBC and CNBC colleagues, “genuine.” What we saw was what we got because that was what he was. He was the 58-year-old kid from uncool Buffalo who never forgot family or blue-collar roots and always remembered how lucky he was to have such a high-profile forum. As Washington Bureau Chief of NBC News, moderator of “Meet the Press” and unparalleled political maven, he was, by all accounts, equal parts friend, mentor and work-ethic avatar to those in his midst.
The tributes — from co-workers and competition alike — were beyond anything accorded a member of the media since Ernie Pyle. Nobody, it seemed, had more godchildren. Former NBC anchor and close Russert pal Tom Brokaw, who doesn’t lose it, lost it in that commemorative “Meet the Press” show he hosted two days after Russert had collapsed and died. He had to be bailed out by Mike Barnicle.
I knew Tim Russert because he was my surrogate too. I didn’t want a presidential campaign to become further mired in trivial queries about lapel pins or whether the irreverent Jeremiah Wright “loves his country as much” as Barack Obama does.
I wanted incisive questions about foreign policy and health insurance and immigration and life experience – and more importantly, I wanted those follow-ups that allowed a candidate an opportunity to amplify his position or forced a poseur into self-revelation.
The death of Tim Russert was as shocking as it was sobering. He was too young and too good. The political process, one that too easily conspires with the media to morph into celebrity dynamics, is the worse for this loss.
Suppose they gave an election and everybody came but Tim Russert?
Here’s hoping that his legacy will be much more than collective memories of a consummate pro and a nice guy who loved his family, his country and his work. May his legacy be that some of those left behind will seek to emulate him – and remember that an electorate is not the same as an audience.