WALTER CRONKITE

  

I used to be an educational television host. It was the best job I ever had. 

I had just finished doing a show on writing with the Punctuation Princess and Captain Librarian. Still jacked up on adrenaline, I stepped out of the tiny studio. 

Standing before me was Walter Cronkite.

Walter Cronkite had come to the station to be interviewed.

Walter Cronkite.

Uncle Walter. 

Old Iron Pants.

The Most Trusted Man in America.

My earliest memories involve the Kennedy assassination. Walter Cronkite was the man who, fighting back tears, took his glasses off, looked into the camera, and told the American people the president was dead. 

He was tall. About six feet. His eyebrows were much bushier than I might have expected. 

This was a big deal. 

Not the eyebrows. 

Walter Cronkite.

“Hello,” I said.

Walter Cronkite looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Hello.”

Just like that.

“Hello.” 

Walter Cronkite ducked into the men’s room. I headed to the lunchroom for a cheese sandwich.