Tim Russert Death Shocks Many

Announcement Friday, June 13 of the sudden collapse and death of veteran broadcast journalist Tim Russert came as sad and tragic news that rocked the journalism profession as well as many broadcast viewers. Russert was moderator of NBC's "Meet the Press", which aired each Sunday morning, served as NBC's bureau chief in Washington D.C. and was regarded among the most respected and recognized political anaylsts in the news business.

Russert, age 58, was a husband and father. He in fact had just returned from Italy where he was celebrating a son's recent college graduation. He was devoted to his religious faith and to his profession. He embraced and well exemplified an obligation of duty to his viewers and listeners. In a rather historic moment, at least in our so-called modern day, NBC's evening network newscast June 13 was devoted entirely to one subject alone -- the unexpected death of a respected colleague and friend.

Through all the remembrances, the messages and sentiments of condolence sent in by dignitaries worldwide, and the global news coverage of Russert's death, the solitary thought which embraces me is one single word ---- "was" --- in that we are now speaking of Tim Russert in the past tense.

Many of these condolences are expressed in these words, which many perhaps know all too well: "our prayers are with his family."

While a certainty in our world, death often comes as a bit of a shock and unexpected surprise, even when we know it may be imminent. A highly publicized notice of death seems to grip us with a little more reticence, particularly when it is someone we have come to admire or someone whose name we may have recognized without aforethought.

Russert's death no doubt fostered this reaction among his family and co-workers and other professional colleagues: "Why, I just saw him a few minutes ago and he was fine," or "I just saw him on the evening news a few nights ago."

Among noted American celebrities, the shock of Russert's death perhaps recently was only eclipsed by news on that fateful day of February 18, 2001 when professional race car driver and NASCAR giant Dale Earnhardt Sr. had suddenly perished during a crash on the final lap of the Daytona 500 race in Florida.

Earnhardt's death in 2001, and certainly Russert's death earlier today, should remind us solemnly that we perhaps better need to reflect upon the value we assign to our lives and those of others whom we cherish. We often become so absorbed in what we each perceive as life's daily challenges that we simply forget that a life vanishes in a brief moment and often without advance notice.

Russert's contributions will be long remembered by declining numbers of people in the years ahead as will Earnhardt's contributions to racing over the course of this century. Ask yourself if the manner in which you live your life each day is indeed the message you wish to leave for others when your soul is immediately called upon to depart this existence. How do you want to be remembered by those who have come to love you and to know you?