You won’t find me going into topics like this very often, if at all, but I just couldn’t help myself today. I really feel that something needs to be said.
One only needs to have have turned on the television in the past week to know that Walter Cronkite died last week.His funeral was today, and compared to the memorial service and continued media circus surrounding Michael Jackson’s death, the coverage is rather stark indeed. Hell, even right now there is another Michael Jackson special on TV Guide (though blessedly, it’s a different one than the two they’ve been cycling for almost three weeks now). Now, I won’t deny the fact that the circumstances surrounding Michael Jackon’s death are somewhat strange and that he was very much in the public eye on and off over the course of his storied career. However, it just strikes me as very strange, and an interesting look into the psyche of the average American.
Walter Cronkite was a man that most people in my generation never knew, however, our parents and grandparents welcomed him into their living rooms every evening in order to find out what had happened over that day. He was with them for the tragedies as well as the triumphs. He brought us two of the news stories that everyone in our parents and grandparents generations remember where they were when the news broke. He wept with the nation when Kennedy was assassinated, and he was there when a man (an American man at that) first stepped foot on the moon. He was a man that everyone in our nation knew, and most importantly, was infinitely more identifiable to the average American than Michale Jackson. And last Friday, he signed off for the final time.
I just wanted to – in my own little way – give a more fitting tribute to a man who I feel deserves a little more than he got.
And that is the way it was.