dan rather's voice quietly sifts through my own thoughts, mashed potato deep and comforting. i don't know what to think anymore. i didn't know this man, didn't grow up listening to this man relate the world's events to me every night. i didn't love "Uncle Walter" but his actions and words have created an impassioned respect for this man who retained his privacy and dignity above all things.
in this age of nancy graces and bill o'reillys, he was a man whose only personal break from professionalism was a brief pause in his report on the assassination of jfk.
perhaps i'm idealising a man who was more legend than reality. perhaps i'm letting myself be lulled into the media aggrandizing that it's so known for.
but perhaps not. perhaps i simply wish i could hearken back to a time when the news was simply the facts, not rumors and opinions clouded by the reporter's judgment. perhaps i wish that journalism was what it once was instead of the disgusting farce that passes itself for news today.
perhaps i simply wish i knew what it was like to trust what someone on the television said.