Pete Fall

We were a Cronkite household - mainly because the only local TV station was a CBS affiliate. Our post-supper ruckus came to a dead stop every time the announcer began saying, "This is the CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite" (on the weekends it was Roger Mudd, a name that fascinated me). Dad turned up the volume on the old wooden RCA TV and total silence was the law. My dad was rarely so angry as when that silence was broken. Walter's reporters, with names like Terry Drinkwater, Morton Dean and Barry Serafin, delivered their stories with such urgency. It all seemed very important to me, and I wanted to be a part of it. When my mom would wake me up for school, she would often tell me the big story she had seen on the morning news. Then, I would watch TV to get filled in on the details. Once, she told me, "They say the Pope died". We weren't Catholic, but I knew he was important and that his death was a big deal. A month later, she woke me up AGAIN by saying, "The Pope died." It was my first experience with deja vu. Was I dreaming? No, it was just the incredibly short papacy of John Paul I. I was probably the only 13-year old who knew the name of Barry Goldwater's running-mate (William Miller), because I kept lists of stuff like that - presidents (and would-be presidents), senators, top-40 songs, baseball stats. I was fascinated by people and news and history and I still am.