Where does the good go


I am so stunned by the news of Tim Russert’s death. I loved him when I was younger because he was an openly devout Catholic in the public eye, which was rare for anyone but Kennedys, and all the rarer for a broadcast journalist. During the “Election 2000” I never missed Meet the Press, not ever.
I also loved that he never let New York politicians forget that New York only has one real NFL team. Stupid Giants.
I’ve grumbled at him in recent months for what I thought was unfair Clinton bashing, but I cannot imagine the next four months of “Election 2008” without him. Heaven help those who are left with George Stephanopoulos to sort the wheat from the chaff.
Hopefully, he is at peace with God.
My heart goes out to his poor son so close to Father’s Day. My heart breaks imagining the unopened Father’s Day present, he will never get to give.
Life is so very short.

3 Responses to “R.I.P”

  1. Casca Says:

    Are you kidding? That’s the dream death. Live a full life. Be a decent guy, and drop dead before you’re too old and ugly for anyone to look at anymore.

  2. Dawn Summers Says:

    While that may generally be true of aging pop stars like Pink or Miley Cyrus, no father should have to bury his son and no boy should have to bury his father.

  3. Casca Says:

    What disconnected from reality alternate universe fueled by bromides do you live in?

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