Dee Savoy

I have to admit I was annoyed at NBC last week for canceling my favorite Sunday program, Meet the Press, in favor of some sporting event I couldn’t care less about. Clinton had just conceded defeat to Obama and I was dying to know what Tim Russert’s commentary on that event would be. I guess the world will never know, since Russert died yesterday of what is said to be a massive heart attack.

I was not only shocked by Russert’s sudden death, but profoundly saddened. There are few things in this life one can count on, but Russert’s hard-hitting, penetrating reportage was one of them. My favorite tactic of his was to let guests blather on about what they said or what they did, then in rebuttal he’d pull out clips from earlier shows to refute whatever the guest just said.

Yet for all his professional success, Russert was still a regular Joe and a family man. He’d just returned from a family trip to Italy to celebrate his son Luke’s graduation from Boston College to prepare for this Sunday’s program when his heart gave out.

I could list a host of Russet’s career accomplishments, if I were so inclined, or post a list of luminaries with kind words to say at Russert’s passing. But I think the most relevant thing I can say is that in my house, as well as millions of others, if it’s Sunday, Tim Russert will be missed.