He had an enlarged heart

That was part of the medical report that came out today on the death of NBC newsman Tim Russert.

How appropriate, I thought.

I’m not going to gush as most of the major media are right now, over Russert’s life work and his impact in the media. You can find that everywhere. But here are a few thoughts, both mine and more importantly, the pros I’ve been listening to since Russert passed away so suddenly yesterday.

He died at work, doing what he so passionately loved, having just returned from a family vacation to Italy to celebrate his son’s graduation from Boston College. His family was also his passion, as was his Roman Catholic faith, say his closest friends. He had an audience with Pope Benedict on that visit to Rome.

On CNN’s Situation Room, Wolf Blitzer and Democratic strategist Paul Begala shared memories of their buddy going back to the trio’s days in Buffalo, New York. Begala said he and Russert were “both devout Catholics”, and he recalled when Russert took NBC’s Today show to Rome “and finagled an interview with the Pope…the ultimate ‘get’.” Recalling the 1993 Denver World Youth Day media coverage, Begala said Russert was excited not only as a journalist to be in the presence of the Pope, but equally as a Catholic. “It was probably difficult to handle both roles at the same time, but he did it with real grace,” said Begala.

I saw Russert at the White House press entrance as we all waited to access the South Lawn ceremony at the White House when President Bush hosted Pope Benedict. He had his ‘game face’ on, but apparently his big heart was beating hard, according to these guys. I know mine was.

Why do I say big heart? This is no hype. Nobody always agrees with any politician or political reporter, whether liberal, conservative or moderate, so take your own pick of how many times you disagreed with Russert’s handling of a story. But I work very hard on preparation and research, and recognized in that man the intensity of an extremely well-prepared interviewer/moderator. Colin Powell told Wolf Blitzer that guests of Meet the Press prepared harder for a Russert interview than most any other, because “you knew he was going to come after you.”

“He was the best of a breed,” said Powell. “His objective was to help the American people understand the issues of the day. And he did that brilliantly.” Blitzer added: “He asked tough questions but always had what we call a ‘soft landing’.” He made sure he ended panel discussions or interviews with some point of common ground, for the sake of civility. A word many journalists are applying to Russert trademark in the profession.

I can’t think of another big media journalist who would garner this much attention on notice of his sudden death. Not one. The stories range from interesting to fascinating to…endearing. Michael Gartner recalls…

Tim Russert didn’t want to be on television.

He was a senior executive – an inside guy, a go-to guy, an idea guy…

But not an on-air guy. He thought.

Finally, I told him he should be – had to be – the moderator of Meet the Press, which wasn’t doing well.

“No way,” he said again.

We argued. We debated. We fought. He raised objections, I shot them down. At the end, he said, “Look, I can’t do it. I’m ugly.” “Well, I said with a laugh, I can’t argue that one (he had a chubby face that looked like it was made out of Play-Doh) but I’m not looking for a handsome guy, I’m looking for a smart one.” Finally, he agreed, and in 1991 he became moderator of the show.

I had some sweatshirts made up with his picture on the front. “Tim Russert,” they said, “Not just a pretty face.” He was, eventually, amused.

This is the part I like best.

He was made for the job. His training from the Jesuits had sharpened his mind, his lessons from his father had instilled his values, his life in politics had widened his knowledge, and his training as a lawyer had honed his questioning. The show was almost an overnight success, and soon we expanded it to a full hour. Then he — and it — took off.

He used old-fashioned tools in a new-fashioned industry. He used a chalkboard like a coach. He put words – words, of all things! – on the screen to make his point. He was as tough as he was fair, as demanding of himself as he was of his guests. He prepared for each show as if it was a final exam.

Most of all, he was believable. That face turned out to be what my father called “an affidavit face.” You looked at him, and you just knew he was telling you the truth.

That’s a rare and precious commodity in today’s big media.

But no matter how rich and famous he became, he always came across on television as a nice guy – who couldn’t like a guy who loved Buffalo and who wished his dad Happy Father’s Day on the air? – but he was more than nice. He was kind, he was caring, and he was generous.

Values he learned from a good family, and a good education. He appreciated both, profoundly.

Russert said his father, a sanitation worker who never finished high school, “worked two jobs all his life so his four kids could go to Catholic school, and those schools changed my life.”

He often spoke warmly of Catholic nuns who taught him in school. “Sister Mary Lucille founded a school newspaper and appointed me editor and changed my life,” he added. Teachers in Catholic schools “taught me to read and write, but also how to tell right from wrong.”

He had a large heart.

A few years ago, Russert published “Wisdom of Our Fathers”, a collection of responses he received from readers of his earlier published tribute to his father.

Tim Russert, RIP. Big Russ, God’s peace this Father’s Day.