The Glass Picture Tube
A Just Reward for Diane Sawyer, but…
2009-09-08
Del Walters

 For the record, I am happy for Diane Sawyer.  To begin with, there is no one who has ever worked in TV who has toiled more hours in harsh conditions than Diane Sawyer.  She deserves to be ABC’s next network news anchor.  That however, is not why I write.

 I write because someone should point out something that should be very disturbing.  Four times now, the top spots at ABC, CBS and NBC have changed hands.  Charlie Gibson replaced the late Peter Jennings. Katie Couric replaced Dan Rather, and Brian Williams was the hand- picked successor of Tom Brokaw. 

Now consider this.  When Bernie Shaw left CNN, the head anchor duties went solely to Wolf Blitzer.  Anderson Cooper, Campbell Brown and Larry King round out the CNN lineup.  On MSNBC, the evening lineup looks like this:  Ed Schultz, followed by Chris Matthews, followed by Keith Olbermann, followed by Rachel Maddow.  The morning lineup is much the same. The world on MSNBC with Willie Geist, followed by Morning Joe, then Dylan Ratigan, with Dr. Nancy Snyderman at noon. When Ted Koppel left ABC for Discovery, the anchor duties went to three people - one of Asian descent, but no African Americans. By now, you should be getting the picture. 

 There exists in America a glass picture tube, one that reflects who we really are, in more ways than one might imagine. I refer to the television set that sits in so many of our bedrooms, or living rooms, or kitchens.  It, with the exception of BET and TV One, is whiter now than it has ever been. That is not a problem in itself if, in a perfect world, those who find themselves sitting the top spot deserve it. But there is a problem, one that exists in the various boardrooms at the many networks we now get our news from.  That is where there is a noticeable absence of color. More importantly, where there is color, most often those people of color lack conscience.
 A disclaimer: I never wanted to be a newsman.  At the time of my hiring in 1976, I was a pre-med major who wanted desperately to come up with a cure for cancer. But when the chance to integrate the airwaves in my hometown came, I jumped at the opportunity.  Like most African Americans who found themselves on the frontlines of a changing America , I wanted to make sure I never did anything to embarrass those who suffered hoses and dogs to make that opportunity possible.  The networks were awash in color.  Max Robinson was on ABC, Bryant Gumbel on Today, Bernie Shaw on CNN, Ed Bradley on 60 minutes and Carole Simpson brought grace to World News This Weekend. They set the bar high, and left it there for a generation of African American journalists to conquer. And so we tried.

 When the only story to cover was the KKK in North Carolina, I flew into the rally. When City Hall burned in Kansas City, I walked up the steps while others were walking out.  When a gunman demanded to speak to a reporter in Washington, I donned the bullet proof vest to go in and talk him out.  I won Emmys for stories that led to the nation’s first airbag warning labels in millions of cars, brought down the two star general in charge of NATO and proved the CIA got away with murder for killing a scientist and staging his suicide. I was not alone.

 Don Griffin was smooth in Raleigh, and Zan Anderson was equally aggressive in Kansas City. Bruce Johnson, an anchor in Washington was dogged in his pursuit of Marion Barry when Barry got busted for smoking crack cocaine. Others in Washington like Renee Poussaint, Paul Berry, Jim Vance and countless others stood in line waiting for their chance too.  Like me, they were there when Katie Couric, Brian Williams and a host of others came to Washington as street reporters, and they were still there when Couric et al left for the big leagues. NBC’s Amy Robach, as one example, was the Fox News traffic reporter.

Every major market has its story of an African American anchor, male or female who was ready for the big dance but never got their shot.  Some drank themselves to death out of frustration of waiting for their chance at the top spot.  Others retired without so much as a whimper.  Many remain bitter to this day.

 I have watched and covered as many of this nation’ s glass ceilings were broken. I welcomed Doug Williams back to Washington when he became the first black quarterback to lead his team to victory in the Super Bowl.  I was there to welcome Guion Bluford when he came back to earth as the first African American astronaut to go into space. As a columnist for this news site, I was there when Barack Obama shattered the most challenging glass ceiling of all.
I end with a question.  What is it about journalism that makes it so sacred?  Why was Max Robinson the last, or Ed Bradley, or Carole Simpson, or Bernie Shaw? Is it because the generation of journalists that followed lacked the credentials to carry on their legacies, or something else? Like the black quarterbacks who sat on the sidelines, or black CEO’s who sat outside the boardroom, black journalists nationwide sit and wait wondering when America will remember we have been here before.