• GAZLO
• CLASS
• JOBS
• AUTO
• HOMES

Russert's death leaves large void

WASHINGTON — When Tim Russert took over “Meet the Press” in 1991, he was already well-known to political reporters as the shrewd, inventive and very funny flack for Pat Moynihan and Mario Cuomo—a spokesman almost as quotable as those two marvelously gifted speakers.

We didn’t know what kind of a journalist Tim would be—or even if he were serious about being one. It didn’t take long to figure out that he would be one of the best—and most fearless—in the business.

When “Meet the Press” went to Texas in 1992 to interview Ross Perot, the wealthy businessman-turned-independent presidential candidate took strong offense to Russert’s aggressive questions and threatened to walkout halfway through. Tim stared him down, and the interview ran its full course.

Sitting next to him many Sunday mornings on the NBC set, I had a close-up view of his mind at work—testing, probing, moving on. His questioning was completely efficient but never officious. Both the viewers and the guests could tell he really liked the newsmakers he was interviewing.

I am generally a skeptic when it comes to people—and there are many of them—who jump from the political world into television or punditry. I almost always suspect some of them are just waiting to move back. But Tim was clearly smitten with his new world. He loved his NBC buddies, and he bragged on them. And he loved talking to that big audience, sharing and showing off his political smarts.

He never would have left journalism. Nothing else gave him that kind of charge. But as soon as the camera lights went off at 10 a.m. Sunday, he relaxed. Ali, the NBC butler, brought out the platters of shrimp and glasses of juice, and the reporters who had been on the roundtable (and sometimes the last interviewee) would join Tim and Executive Producer Betsy Fischer for a lengthy exchange of political gossip. When a birthday or anniversary was imminent, there would be cake—and at Christmas, a brass ensemble would play carols.

What the television audience did not know was how generous Tim was in his personal relationships. Family came first, but he took the time for friendships, and he nourished them. That is why his death on Friday leaves such a large void in this community.

David Broder is a columnist for The Washington Post. Readers may write to him via e-mail at davidbroder@washpost.com.