"Call Me Walter"

Walter Cronkite died a few days ago at the age of 92, but the type of newsman he was died a long time ago in American television. Always dignified, respected, and not concerned with his appearance, he was a soothing presence even when delivering the most horrific news. I don't know anyone who didn't like him.

I am in the Tuscan hills as I write this, so I have not seen much news coverage of his death. I can imagine the accolades, the news clip of him announcing President Kennedy's death, his colleagues talking about what a professional he was, how they wanted to be like him, how much he was trusted.

I have my own personal memory of him that I would like to share.

It was New Year's Day of 1998 or 1999, in Vienna, Austria. He was there, as he always was, for the New Year's Day concert in that city of music. After the concert we were invited to the residence of the American ambassador, Kathryn Hall, for lunch. It was a buffet set-up, with free seating.

As I was standing at the buffet table, no doubt contemplating whether I should start my New Year's resolution diet that day or wait until January 2, a familiar voice came up behind me and asked, "What do you recommend?"

I turned to come face to face with Walter Cronkite. Of course I had seen him at the luncheon, but he was surrounded by people wanting to bask in his celebrity. He had that wonderful warm voice, and a friendly smile, and I think I suggested the ham.

We chatted a little at the table and then I went to find a seat with a friend.

"May I join you?" came that same familiar voice.

"Why yes, Mr. Cronkite," I said, "I would like that."

"Call me Walter," he said, and sat down.

I don't remember everything we talked about, but I do remember that he asked me questions rather than talking only about himself. He had a twinkle in his eye. He confessed that he had a weakness for dessert, and asked which one I thought he should have. He took a bite of mine. He was a charmer in the nicest possible way.

Later John mentioned to him that we were thinking of moving to New York when our time in Vienna came to an end.

"Oh, you should," Walter said. "You come to New York and we'll have some fun!"

We exchanged cards and numbers.

We never moved to New York and we never saw Walter Cronkite again, either. It doesn't matter.

Maya Angelou once said or wrote something to the effect that you might not remember what a person said or did, but you would always remember how that person made you feel.

Walter Cronkite made me feel good.