Edward R. Murrow, an interesting look back in time

 

Edward R. Murrow

 

 

 

    A few years ago, a local library was selling books it no   longer felt it had room for in their collection.  I bought   Prime Time, The Life of Edward R. Murrow, by Alexander   Kendrick.  At the time, I was busy with the publication of   Prairie Bachelor, and I put the 548-page book aside to read   later, when I had more time.  Recently, I made time to read   it, and once I started, I could not put it down. 

As you may remember, Murrow was a newsman who first made his reputation on radio, particularly during W.W. II, but returned as a newsman for CBS when television was joining radio as a source of entertainment and news.  Some of you may recall his radio news reporting, but others, like me, may recall watching him on our small screen televisions.  He was a highly respected and admired newsman.  

As television gained viewership, and found profitability in selling shows to advertisers, Murrow became increasingly concerned about the direction television was taking, and with his fame as a reputable deliverer of the news, he felt the responsibility to speak out concerning the importance of providing viewers the news.   From the perspective of those deciding how broadcasting time was to be allocated, the revenue received from advertisers of the news was insignificant compared to the money advertisers were willing to pay for Westerns, game shows, and other entertainment.  Their response to Murrow's concern was to tell him that the programing he belittled was what paid for the in-depth news specials he hosted.

The public respect for Murrow did give him some protection to speak out against Senator McCarthy of Wisconsin in the years following W.W. II, as the Senator used television to destroy opponents and gain an audience, although many were afraid to speak out.  Murrow delivered his criticism without the bombastic slanders of McCarthy, but saying, "The line between investigating and persecution is a very fine one, and the junior Senator from Wisconsin has stepped over it repeatedly." Ultimately, Murrow stated his concern clearly enough that it could not be ignored.  "His [McCarthy's] weapon was fear.  He was a politically unsophisticated man with a flair for publicity, and he was powerfully aided by the silence of timid men who feared to be the subject of his unfounded accusations.  He polluted the channels of communication, and every radio and television network, every newspaper and magazine publishers who did not speak out against him, contributed to his evil work and must share responsibility for what he did, not only to our fellow citizens but to our self-respect...The timidity of television in dealing with this man when he was spreading fear throughout the land is not something to which this art of communication can ever point with pride."

He was not the only television executive to speak out.  NBC President Silvestor Weaver said, "You can't really have in your hands the power that television has in this time of crisis, and be agreeable to salving the problem by letting it become a jukebox in the corner of the room to keep the kids quiet, and just pile on one crime or Western or game show after another."  

Murrow agreed, and he went public with his concerns when he received the Albert Einstein Award, saying, "If television and radio are to be used for the entertainment of all of the people all of the time, we have come perilously close to discovering the real opiate of the people."

Today, we do have many sources for receiving news.  Murrow had believed that Americans were suspicious of propaganda, and that suspicion would protect them from the harm of people like Wisconsin Senator McCarthy.  He believed that newsmen only needed: "To be persuasive, we must be believable.  To be believable we must be credible.  To be credible, we must be truthful.  It is as simple as that."  Murrow trusted the American people to eventually sort through the nonsense and fabrication and arrive at the truth,  

For those of us with gray in our hair, we may know W.W. II history only from textbooks, and although we might have been old enough to pay attention to Senator McCarthy's humiliation, we probably had our minds on something else at the time.  I am so glad that I finally read Prime Time, The Life of Edward R. Murrow.  I do remember him, although more from his visits with famous people in their homes than with his news reporting.   I do remember the trail of smoke that constantly rose from the cigarette in his hand.  I did not remember so many other things he did in his amazing life until reading this book.  If you are intrigued by this remarkable American, you can still find this book online for a few dollars.  Used hardcover books are more expensive, and mine is not for sale!

P.S.  As a measure of his credibility as a reporter, the man who was almost never seen without a cigarette in his hand did a special news report on the dangers of smoking as research revealed its serious risks, cementing his determination for telling the truth, even about something he was known to enjoy.  He died of cancer, but it was of the brain rather than of the throat.  One lung had previously been removed, but after his death it was found that the remaining lung was clear.  His brain had been riddled with cancer, but it could not be determined whether the brain cancers had traveled from the earlier removed lung.