Good Tom Shales column on Walter Cronkite

[WI_DEM]

As Walter Cronkite's night of retirement from "The CBS Evening News" grew closer and closer back in 1981, there were signs of palpable public panic -- one of them a briefly popular T-shirt on which was printed the horrified rhetorical question, "Oh, my God -- what are we going to do without Walter Cronkite.

The sentiment reflected how warmly Cronkite was regarded in the population of American celebrities. Television confers a different kind of stardom than had ever been seen before, more intimate than radio and far more immediate than the movies, and it made Cronkite more than merely an eminent or prominent public figure. He was a private figure, too, welcomed into millions of American homes -- a reporter and anchorman, yes, but also an honorary member of families he had never seen or met.

"Uncle Walter" was a sardonic but sentimental title, and so it is that Americans who grew up turning to Cronkite for the news of the day -- and regular readings of the American mind and mood -- might feel now that they have lost more than an acquaintance, more than an uncommonly well-informed neighbor, more than an abiding avuncular presence in their lives, even though he'd been retired for nearly three decades prior to his death yesterday at age 92.

Millions of Americans who'd parroted to each other the famous good-night from "The Huntley-Brinkley Report" -- "Good night, Chet," "Good night, David" -- now found themselves captivated by the man who signed off each night with: "And that's the way it is," followed by the date. Other newscasters would attempt imitations of the Cronkite sign-off -- Charlie Gibson of ABC News has an especially pathetic one these days -- but none ever made theirs as much a part of the national iconography.

Cronkite was more than another part of that system of symbols, catchphrases, familiar faces and self-caricatured faces; his persona became so prominent in American culture (one survey found him to be "the most trusted man in America") that he was credited with massive swings in public opinion -- most notably earning credit for turning the public against the Vietnam War after a visit there. President Lyndon B. Johnson was heard to observe that once he'd lost Walter Cronkite, he'd lost the American electorate, as well. And he'd lost the war.

He took us to the moon, he led us in mourning a hugely beloved leader, he helped bring an end to a disastrous regional conflict, and he played many other roles in the life of the nation and its citizen-viewers. Known to friends in the business for his thriftiness (it was said no one had ever seen him pick up a check at lunch) and a liquor-fueled capacity for impromptu Greek dances (or so it was reported by TV Guide), Cronkite was clearly a man who enjoyed the world on which he so faithfully reported, even when the news was cruel, cold or unbearably sad.

He was ours, we were his, and he didn't so much deliver the news to us as join us in experiencing the world outside our own homes and schools and towns. He won virtually every award that is given out in the annals of broadcasting, but he won a lot more than that. He earned our friendship, our trust and even, as we perhaps now realize more than at any other time in the relationship, our love.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/07/17/AR2009071703501.html

[Jade Fox]

1. Cronkite didn't harangue or moralize.....

he didn't lecture or bloviate. He didn't dumb down the news, or spin it. Even when he declared the Vietnam Was un-winnable, you knew Cronkite had come to that conclusion after years of observation and careful thought.

He would be laughed off today's news shows.