Tim Russert's Long Goodbye

Cleveland Democratic Debate
Originally uploaded by NewsHour

The death of Tim Russert has been a hard blow for me, as I mentioned in my previous post. A friend of mine shares with me the penchant of having sometimes referred to Meet the Press as "our Sunday morning church," a commonality that bristles with irony if one knows the whole story. He called me up the other day and said, "Grant, we've lost our pastor." And so it seemed.

I've watched Meet the Press for decades and never did I sit choking back sobs like I did last Sunday. That apparently was true for many, resulting in a national mourning that seemed it would never end. Russert's farewell was like those usually reserved for presidents, not for the working press.

The media attention has been amazing to me, not just in duration but also in tone. I know they were dealing with one of their own and this one happened to have so many redeeming qualities that it seemed impossible, even irreverent, to harness the superlatives. It just seemed that they couldn't run out of good things to say. Political journalists get jaded and hard-bitten at times, but suddenly they all became dads and moms, wearing comfortable sweaters and a pair of slippers. They referred to their news bureaus as "families" and their colleagues as "godparents" and "dear friends." And on top of it all, as the memorial service ended with a rendition of "Over the Rainbow" a sure enough real rainbow parked itself over the NBC studios. This may become one of those urban legends, but for the moment I choose to suspend disbelief.

Some cynics are now beginning to question the coverage as overkill, something I've been expecting and even understand. Jack Shafer, editor at large of the online magazine Slate, wrote a controversial piece on Monday in which he referred to the media attention as a "canonization" of Russert. This led to a spirited discussion on NPR that revealed the strong feelings elicited by this man.

Tim & Luke Russert
Originally uploaded by Texas
Revolutionary

I suspect that this has as much to do with our culture as with Tim Russert. Of Russert it is said that he was competent and fair as a journalist, open and compassionate with his staff, loyal and caring to his friends, and loving and attentive to his family. These are virtues, wise and true, but why lionize such a man? Isn't that the way we all should be?

The answer, of course, is yes. The rest of the answer is that we are not.

I know that the major reason for my tears is not how badly I will miss his journalism (and I really, really will). I cried because I didn't have a dad like that. I really didn't have a dad at all, and the older I get the more I know how much I needed one.

I don't think my sons had a dad like that either. But I think they had a better one than I had, and I think their children will have better ones than they had. Big Russ, Tim, and Luke have inspired us by example to find a way.

Tim Russert didn't need this long farewell. But we did. I am grateful that the remarkable Russert family allowed us to borrow him for a few days, even in their grief, so that we could have Tim "for the whole hour."