A tiny Cronkite memory

I was channel surfing last night when I flipped to CBS and saw the Special Report logo come on. That brings immediate pause, and Katie Couric appeared to inform us that Walter Cronkite had died at age 92. My heart sank as I sat in my upstairs office, wrapping up contract work for a client.

I grew up watching Uncle Walter deliver the CBS Evening News. When I was a kid, television included three stations if you were lucky and one of them was always CBS. My parents never missed an evening newscast, and supper usually followed. This was supper around the kitchen table, not supper in front of the TV watching reruns of sitcoms.

I was six when President Kennedy was shot. I remember the utter, desperate sadness that hung in the air for weeks. I was attending a small Catholic elementary school at the time, and the nuns took the assassination very hard. I also remember Cronkite's voice and how he continued to do his job, even when the rest of us just wanted to roll over.

The historical events of my youth were narrated by Cronkite. I didn't know it was special, I just knew it was reassuring and I always felt he knew what he was talking about. Don't underestimate the title "The Most Trusted Man in America" because it is not easy to earn that title. Part of it was his demeanor, part of it was his midwestern resonance.

I remember very clearly when Apollo 11 landed on the moon. We were as excited as preschoolers before a trip to the zoo waiting for the astronauts to descend from the lunar module. Walter was talking us through it. I thought that it must have been like the time we were on vacation and we arrived too late at night to swim in the motel pool. The wait until morning nearly killed us. I figured that was how the astronauts felt before they were ready to go outside.

My favorite memory of Cronkite involved my infant daughter. He was nearing retirement when she was born, and he had aged to resemble my father. His voice was still pleasant and deep. I discovered by accident that I could park her infant seat in front of the CBS Evening News while I made dinner, and she would engage in the face and the voice and remain happy and quiet while I completed my task. I wasn't someone who used television as a babysitter, but I figured Uncle Walter would be okay. Even when he was relaying deadly details, she was soothed by his voice.

So last night was hard. I haven't really heard him deliver news for years, but I can still conjure up the tone in my head. I don't listen to the TV news any more, but do catch some on NPR when I can. Most of those voices feel trusting. Thanks, Walter for setting the bar.