Elegy for Tim Russert

It is little more than 5 minutes since I found out that Tim Russert has passed and I have not allowed enough time to process his loss, discover what he meant, or form a cogent thought about it. I imagine no time will ever be sufficient.

But Mr. Russert seemed like my friend, or more truthfully, like my dad. I looked forward to Sundays intensely. Meet The Press made politics relevant for me; I rarely legitimized any political story until Mr. Russert covered it. As a student of politics and of journalism, I saw no greater steward of those traditions than Tim Russert. No politician earned his or her mettle unless he or she sat down for an hour with Tim. I will miss him and journalism has lost its best today.

Quite often, Tim Russert reminded me of my own father; they share the same best qualities--sharp, tirelessly hardworking, quick-witted, yet even-tempered, breathtakingly smart, warm, calm. Indeed, once, while watching Meet The Press with my dad several years ago, he let on about his own admiration of Mr. Russert. "That Tim," my dad said, grinning, "he doesn't let you get away with much, does he?"

He had a keen ear, the best memory of anyone I have ever seen, and cared deeply for what he did and for the subjects on which he reported. He was the best there was.

Tim Russert had a profound effect on me. On Sundays, he was my teacher. I learned, though him, to analyze all facts, sift through all the information to get to that nugget of truth, and to ask questions clearly and poignantly. I became a better thinker, a better writer, and better citizen because of it. And I won't forget it.

He passed today doing what he loved and I am sure he regrets not living to see the conclusion of the best political season in decades.

The news today has me thinking of Edward R. Murrow--the only other journalist who meant as much to his profession as Tim--and his words ring in my ears: “To be persuasive we must be believable; to be believable we must be credible; credible we must be truthful.”