Goodbye

I saw Tim Russert once at a Borders in the Maryland suburbs. He was putting out copies of his book Big Russ and Me. I didn't approach him. I didn't say hi, I didn't tell him how much I liked his show. I just stared from a short distance. I watched as an elderly woman asked where the cook books were. He laughed a bit and said he didn't work there. Then I watched as a slightly awkward man did what I wouldn't; he told Tim Russert how much he admired him. And Mr. Russert gave him a big smile and thanked him. I am resistant to talking to famous people. I generally believe that they don't want me to interrupt them while they are trying to live their private lives. I don't know if that is right or not, but I do regret not saying something to him that morning.

I was on vacation with my dad and brother when I heard the news of Tim Russert's death and I am surprised how much it affected me. I think I am saddened for two reasons, one selfish. First, I am sad because it seemed that he was such a genuinely nice and excited person. Since his death, stories abound of his love of politics, Buffalo, his Dad, his son, his wife, and his faith. To see someone so full of life and joy die at a relatively young age is heartbreaking.

But selfishly I am upset because of the void that he is leaving. Tim Russert was great at his job, and his job was extremely important to our democracy. He had the absolute perfect blend of smarts, hardwork, on camera presence (although not in the traditional sense), and geniality. He did what most other interviewers say they do - he asked the tough questions of all the big names in American politics. He did it in a way that wasn't combative, so people couldn't be excused for dodging questions and responding aggressively. And because he worked so hard and because he was so smart, he could bring up old quotes from politicians and try to catch them in their hypocrisy.

I must admit that I didn't watch the show as religiously as I wanted to. Many Sunday afternoons I would think about what I did that morning and wonder if it was worth missing Meet the Press. The bottom line though is that I didn't make it part of my routine. But at least I drew comfort knowing that the show was on and that some politicians were being grilled about their positions.

The only possible comfort I can take from this is that maybe Tim Russert's death will allow people to fully realize what we are missing when he is gone. In doing so, we might search not for one replacement, but for many replacements. Maybe we'll lose one Tim Russert but gain a dozen people just like him. I imagine that's what he would want.