I Hadn’t Cried In A While

Did anyone watch Meet The Press this morning?

Man oh man. It was a tear jerker.

On Friday, when I first heard of Tim Russert’s death, I can’t say that it had much of an effect on me. One of my colleagues received a text message from her sister in Washington, passing along the news that Russert had had a heart attack. It surprised me how upset she was when she heard the news. I thought, sure, this is tragic, but people die every day.

We’ve been watching Meet The Press almost every week during this primary season. Along with The Colbert Report, it’s one of the few shows on our DVR that we actually keep up with. Next to Howard Stern, Russert was the best interviewer in journalism.

But I still didn’t feel sad when I heard news of his death. Watching the reactions of my co-workers, I wondered if I was a cold, heartless cynic.

Then today, I teed up MTP on our DVR. The guests shared personal stories about Russert and they played footage from some of his more famous interviews. It ended with a photo slide show set to a Bruce Springsteen song.

I had a couple of watery eye moments when I heard personal details (like how he called James Carville to share a moment during an LSU football game), but I completely lost it near the end when his producer described how Russert had helped lift her up (she had started as an intern).

He pursued a noble profession. He did it with integrity and ambition. That’s enough to make him a great man. But when you add the personal stories of mentorship, loyalty, and the little boy inside him, it’s just too much. And on Father’s Day no less!

Why did he have to die before he inspired me? Do we have too few living American heroes? Or have I gotten too cynical to believe their stories?

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