So much has been said over the past few days that I'm not sure what I can say that wouldn't be repetitive or redundant, so I'll just tell a story.
Unlike many of my colleagues in the tech, political or journalism space, I'm a native Washingtonian. I had Saturday morning cartoons, and then on Sunday, McLaughlin and Russert.
I held them both in the same esteem. To me, Russert was just as much a superhero as the cartoons in his time slot the day before.
When I was about 10 years old, a family friend and neighbor arranged for my brother and I to attend a taping of Meet the Press, where then Clinton campaign manager Ron Brown appeared.
The NBC studios in DC are on Nebraska Avenue, and have a pretty impressive front entrance and driveway. So, there were a good chunk of cameras camped out on that front lawn, and after my family and I exited, we waited for the "other" show to begin. Of course, Brown wasn't answering any questions, but being the obnoxious 10 year old that I was, I had to ask, something like "If Governor Clinton can't control his marriage, how can he handle a country?" I was some snot-nosed child asking a top campaign manager a question.
Of course, he had to answer the little kid.
Somewhere, I have a tape of that encounter. When the man who became Secretary Brown died in a plane crash some time later, it hurt me, because even at that young age I understood that we had lost someone who was part of out history.
So, when I was sitting at a desk this past Friday and my BlackBerry started buzzing, I did the only natural thing: I checked Wikipedia and Drudge.
Flashback to 1992, sitting in the NBC studios. Watching my cartoon hero.
The difference between Saturday and Sunday morning, is that on Saturday, the hero never dies. Or so we think.
Not only was Tim Russert a Sunday morning hero, he was a larger than life, super-powered Saturday morning one as well. Like our cartoon heroes, he did things no one else could, and although he was very much a real, live person, he will never truly be dead, because he gave himself the power of immortality.
He truly was a superhero: His power was the power of research, of accountability, and documentation, and while Clark Kent had to remove his suit and tie to reveal his true identity, Tim Russert wore the Washington "uniform" like a spandex bodysuit. The jacket, his cape. The videos, the quotes, the questions, all on his utility belt, as he went to do battle every Sunday morning as Superman had the day before.
And now, like Superman, he soars above us.
Tim Russert, 1950-2008, R.I.P.
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