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Edited on Sat Jun-14-08 06:05 AM by jumptheshadow
I could never be objective about Tim Russert. I would get angry at his television persona, sometimes, then he would just go back to being a distant brother figure. We had too much in common.
We were about the same age, tended to have similar demeanors, and had both been weaned on too many of Ted's charcoal hots. We both grew up Irish in Buffalo, one of the most decent, hard-working and ill-fated cities in the nation.
His roots were in the deeply religious and proletarian community of South Buffalo, although he began to leave that neighborhood behind when he attended Canisius High to the north. Mine were in the lace curtain lawyers' havens in north and suburban Buffalo, although my immediate family's circumstances were often troubled, and I, too, have had to work hard for everything I have ever achieved.
To understand what Tim Russert meant to Buffalo, you have to consider what the city has gone through. Globalization has left large parts of its industrial and residential areas a decaying ghost town. Local political corruption and shady deals stymy almost all well-intentioned attempts to revive its economy. It's a shame, because the city offers miles of cheap real estate and tens of thousands of potential employees who have an old-fashioned sense of customer service and work ethics. Got snow? No problem! If we have a regularly scheduled family event, we'll just allow 45 minutes extra to navigate the streets.
Tim Russert was Buffalo's favorite son. He was a bright, nice guy who didn't attend any rarefied schools and who became perhaps one of the most respected contemporary figures through hard work, smarts and political acuity. He was plain spoken, yet articulate, like many Buffalonians. And he never forgot his roots when he became a celebrity.
Yes, I know, many of you, and some of my friends, hated his "Buffalo shtick." You just didn't understand how uplifting it was to so many Buffalonians who have been through hard times and who felt like family to him. I will never forget, when, at the end of one of his shows, he implored Americans to become Buffalonians for one day and to root for the Bills to win just one Super Bowl. I don't know how many folks actually changed their allegiances that day, but the thought that they might have sure cut the sting of one of those damn Super Bowl defeats.
Put Russert's name up on the honor wall in Ralph Wilson stadium, say I.
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