The late Walter Cronkite's life was celebrated this week with the prominence usually reserved for statesmen. He deserved it. A reporter first, a gentleman always, a professional in every way.
Reading about Cronkite, with his background in print journalism (and a tough field, too, in his day, because he worked for a news service, United Press) called to mind the evolution, for want of a better way to describe it, of the relationship between print news people and television people.
When I started in the business fresh out of college (actually before I was fresh out) 35 years ago, it was understood that we in the newspaper end of things were born to dislike the television people, and vice versa. This was obvious sometimes at press conferences, when we'd complain about the cameras blocking our view, and the TV folks would complain about answers to our questions taking too long and that we dominated the questioning when they had a right to be heard as well.
There may still be some of that, but fairly early along the career path, I had occasion to appear on television some, and the lesson learned, in sometimes embarrassing ways, was that doing TV was much, much harder than it looked. First, things had to be compressed in a matter of seconds or a few minutes. On a given story, I might have had 600-800 words to get my facts out. The television people would have half of that, or less.
But it was a few early radio appearances and some television gigs (all of them in a lighthearted vein) that helped me put myself in my place. On my very first radio show, I was conscious of wanting to articulate every word. When I listened to it later, I sounded like somebody from North Carolina who was trying to sound like somebody from Chicago who was actually sounding like he was from another galaxy. The first television shows I did produced old-fashioned flop sweat, and stumbles and mumbles and nightmares that I'd said something stupid that was going to be on tape forever.
That's the additional pressure the TV people are under. If I goof in print, I have to make it right, but at least I get a chance. If a television reporter makes a mistake, it's out over the airwaves. The television people hereabouts are very good, and mistakes are rare.
When I think about the pressure Cronkite was under, every day, it's astonishing that he made so few errors. This was a fellow who must have spoken hundreds of thousands of words in the course of a career, maybe make that millions, and yet his bloopers were few. He was a pro.
