Jeff Ling

In this day of 24 hour news coverage through any number of outlets, it’s hard to imagine that in 1962 the evening newscast was 15 minutes in length. That was the year that Cronkite joined CBS and I was 6 years old.

Watching the adoration and obsession that surrounded Michael Jackson’s death, it occurred to me that so many of these fans dated their lives by the comings and goings of Jackson. He really had been the “soundtrack” for their lives. Walter was the soundtrack for mine. Shortly after he arrived at CBS, the newscast was expanded to 30 minutes. Over on NBC, the famous duo of Huntley and Brinkley (“Goodnight Chet,” Goodnight David”) led the ratings war for some years but eventually Walter really did become America’s most trusted newsman.

Walter was the voice of the news for me during events that affected me deeply. He covered the news of J.F.K.’s assassination. He was a voice that expressed our grief, a voice of comfort and a voice of surprised steadiness as I watched Jack Ruby take down Oswald in real time. Walter would walk me through the deaths of both Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy in 1968. I was 12 and thought the world was coming apart at the seams. In 1969 he reported on Woodstock (the place I wanted to be, but as a junior higher it just wasn’t gonna happen!) and put words to my open mouthed amazement as Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon.

By 1970, and at 14 years of age, I was growing cynical to say the least.  Vietnam made no sense and Walter knew it. He said so and I trusted Walter. I was a rebel wanna be. I stole my copy of “Steal This Book” by Abbie Hoffman, raged against the Kent State massacre and memorized the lyrics to “Ohio.” In May of 1971 I watched from my suburban kitchen in Fairfax as over 10,000 were arrested in Washington D.C. during the largest anti-war action of the Vietnam era. Walter was still at the news helm. My dad and I argued the war with anger and passion. Couldn’t argue the war with Walter. He just reported. Day in and day out he brought the war to my dinner table. “That’s the way it is.” he would say and eventually most everyone knew it couldn’t stay that way.

Nixon sealed the deal on my cynical distrust of authority. It was 1974. I had been rescued by Jesus from my sins and the country was rescued from Nixon by his resignation, but the whole tawdry mess had scarred us all and “trust” was something we no longer enjoyed. Walter remained. It wasn’t until 1981 – after Ford, Carter and just as Reagan was ready to take office that he retired and only because CBS insisted. Through all those years, Walter was watched by more people every night than the current big 3 networks combined. He was an American institution,  admired and trusted. Later in life he would freely let his liberal views be known but seldom as a newsman. He was a reporter. The ultimate anchorman. Just the facts.

In today’s Washington Post, Howard Kurtz quotes Walter talking about today’s news coverage:

“Nobody’s asked me, which is strange, but I think the networks ought to be doing the headlines — compressed as they must be — and no features. Drop that ‘Your Pocketbook and Mine,’ ‘Your Beauty and Mine,’ ‘Your Garbage Can and Mine.’ “

News meant news to Walter. Today it’s just another branch of mind-numbing entertainment, competing for advertising dollars and developing what amounts to garbage to fill the relentless hours…

Walter was the voice, the soundtrack of my formative years.