I read the news flash of Tim Russert's passing with the same shock as others. "What?" I said out loud, despite the fact that I was alone in my apartment. I have previously written about my addiction to the news. I'll give up chocolate and ice cream before I'll give up the news. And Tim Russert has been a part of my news watching for as long as I can remember.
I never met him, never even saw him in a rare celebrity sighting during my years in Washington, D.C., though I felt like I knew him very well. Whenever a primary or election or press conference was happening, I was eager to watch how he would crunch the numbers and determine a politician's answers to his tough and fair questions. I believed every one of his predictions without hesitation, and appreciated his honesty in the often less-than-honest industry of politics.
I am deeply effected by his passing for more reasons than just missing his political commentary. I admired him for how he relished his work with the gusto than many people reserve for their personal hobbies and interests. And it set me to thinking about what career I want to make my life's work. What path do I take that I will love as much as Tim Russert loved his? To find that path seems the best way to honor his contribution to our society.
It's seems unfair that he would be taken so suddenly, right before a holiday that celebrates one of his favorite roles, father, and on the eve of possibly the most historic election in our country's history. We've relied on him for so long to steer us through the complexities of the political world and now we'll need to navigate on our own.