I was at work when I heard that Tim Russert died, just like he was when he died, just like many people were when they heard the news. Friday afternoons are usually a slow time for news, and this moment in history is the calm before the storm, between the primaries and the general election. There is some sweet irony in the fact that Tim Russert, the man who didn't make news himself but nonetheless dominated the news as it was being made, died at a moment that allowed the maximum degree of publicity to be accorded to him. After a long and grueling primary, when he served his country and his profession so well.
I never watched Meet The Press, but I still knew who he was. I think the last time I saw him onscreen was after Obama had clinched the Democratic nomination last week. It was just a few seconds. His face was lit up like a kid in a candy store as he said that he would love to teach history in an inner-city school the next day. You could tell that he was very proud of what America had done by selecting Barack Obama, an African-American man, as the nominee of a major political party.
There are links and tributes all over the blogosphere. I'm just going to link to his professional home, NBC. Thanks, big guy, for everything.
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