Walter Cronkite, the last giant

I'd be remiss if I didn't mark this day in some concrete way. Walter Cronkite died today at 92. His passing wasn't unexpected, as he'd been ailing for some time and his family had recently confirmed that he could go at any time. Regardless, he was the last of a generation of journalistic giants who defined the medium of television for decades and who set the tone for virtually every broadcast journalist who decided to go in front of a camera.

He was and always will be the gold standard of what a broadcast journalist should be. Long called the most trusted man in America, he brought an integrity to the chair that no one has ever quite been able to approach, let alone match. It was a cruel irony that he was succeeded as CBS anchor by a self-absorbed tight-end who never learned to take himself any less than uber-seriously. In contrast to his lightweight successor, Walter probably knew Kenneth's life story as well as the frequency he sought. Indeed, it so often seemed there wasn't anything Walter didn't know.

And if, as so many of us suspect, the seeming omniscient poise of the anchor was simply accomplished through the illusion of television - great writers, great production staff, great attention to detail at every level of the chain - then so be it. He was the epitome of someone perpetually at the top of his game, and his passing leaves an enormous void in an industry that's lost its way, and in a society that once relied on that industry for guidance.

Rest in peace, Mr. Cronkite. Thank you, and goodnight.

"...and that's the way it is..."