HE WAS a journalist and the best kind of journalist: one with an unbelievable work ethic and a sense of duty. He was principled and tenacious. Tim Russert passed just minutes ago from a heart attack while in a sound booth recording voice-overs for his show Meet the Press, a program I watched late at night going into the beginning of the new week on Sunday night/early Monday morning on NBC for the longest time.

Like most (male) journalists of his day he loved sports, particularly baseball, football — especially his Buffalo Bills — and basketball. During the NBA All-Star weekend in 1997 he aired a special episode on the event, even. They say the greatest tragedy is a parent outliving a child. Russert’s dad, who is known as “Big Russ” to many, now in his ’80s, was just moved into an extended care facility last weekend, helped by Russert himself. This news must hurt him more than the world can imagine. Tim Russert is a role model to me, and much like with the passing of David Halberstam and Ed Bradley, his loss leaves a hole in my experience here. Peace, Mr. Russert, from a guy who is trying to learn to be one-half the journalist you were.