No More Sundays

Tim Russert died this afternoon, apparently of a heart attack (although details are still emerging). He had recently returned from Europe and was in his offices across from the White House preparing for his evening show when he collapsed. He was only 58 years old.

I am terribly, terribly saddened by this news. Tim’s face was a regular one in my household, and scarcely a Sunday passed without my watching Meet the Press. Tim took over the show in 1991 and molded into a powerful creation of his own making—if you wanted to be taken seriously in the world of politics, or indeed by the world at large, you went on Meet the Press. Period. His insidiously subtle style of grilling important people, even presidents, often confronting them with their own words or broken promises, was famous. Yet he did it in a respectful, gentle manner, and almost always the guests left laughing or smiling.

To this day, I have no idea what Tim’s political leanings were. He was fair, grilling both Democrats and Republicans with equal aplomb, wit, and style. His knowledge of politics was incredible, and he was tireless in doing what he so obviously loved. The image of the crazy 2000 election night for me is defined by Tim Russert scribbling furiously on a tiny whiteboard, once again making sense of this country’s political bedlam for us mere mortals.

This is truly a loss for the entire nation. I will mourn you Tim. Thank you for all the great Sundays and all the great words of wisdom over the years.