That twisted, murky world

When I was young, I never paid much attention to politics.

But then I was thrown into the deep end of the pool.

I was in my 20s, and the ballot for president in 1968 offered three choices: Richard Nixon, Hubert Humphrey and George Wallace. (The latter was a long shot as an independent.) Nixon was a Republican, and Humphrey was a Democrat.

I was working as news director for American Forces Television in Germany when the station manager called me into his office and told me I would be co-anchoring AFTV Germany's coverage of election night.

O-k-a-y. That would be a fresh adventure for me.

We wouldn't be having any live feeds from the States, so Les Jackson, my co-anchor, and I would broadcast in front of a large blackboard map, on which we'd chalk the results in each state. We knew we'd have audio clips of acceptance and concession speeches, but little else.

Les and I had about a month to prepare. Our first stop was the small base library for books on  Nixon and Humphrey. We also pored over the New York Times, Stars and Stripes (an American daily published overseas that operates from inside the Department of Defense, but is editorially separate from it), and the Associated Press and United Press International newswires.

I mean, we really studied.

By the time election night rolled around, we were ready. And we did a creditable job, which was somewhat easier since no analyzing or opinion was allowed on AFTV. It was "just the facts," but Les and I knew the facts cold and made the broadcast work.

And I discovered I had a real taste for politics.

Fast-forward to December 1969. I had just gotten out of the service and was working as a reporter for WTVR TV in Richmond. During my first week, the news director took me aside and told me I would be covering the Virginia General Assembly.

I was flabbergasted ... and scared. I had never paid much attention to Virginia politics. Plus, I had been out of the country for three years. In addition, a deadline loomed: The General Assembly session would start in about two weeks.

I will forever be grateful to two veteran TV and radio journalists who took me under their big wings. John Gilbert had been covering politics for a Roanoke TV station for decades. He allowed me to follow him around the Capitol. He explained exactly how it worked. Within two weeks I was bringing story ideas to the table independently of what John was covering.

My other mentor had been John's competition in Roanoke, Don Murray. Don was news director and anchor at WDBJ for so long that he became known as the dean of Roanoke newscasters. By the time I came along, he had moved to Richmond and was working for WRVA radio news. His thoughtful explanations of the "why" of Virginia politics were invaluable.

I couldn't have had better guides through that twisted, murky world.

The next year, I covered the death of young Lt. Gov. J. Sargeant Reynolds of a brain tumor. "Howlin'" Henry Howell became the Independent nominee to fill the remaining two years of Reynolds' term. A populist, he vowed to "keep the Big Boys Honest." I covered Howell on the campaign trail. He won the election.

In 1972, George McGovern ran as a Democrat against Republican incumbent Richard Nixon. My assignment was the McGovern campaign in Virginia. It was a nasty battle, and there was never any real thought that McGovern would win. Nixon never finished his second term. In the aftermath of the Watergate scandal, he became the first president to resign.

I covered Howell again in 1973, when he ran as an independent for governor. Howell's sole opponent was former Democratic governor Mills Godwin, who had switched allegiance and run this time as a Republican.

It was a tight race. I mean, remarkably tight.

I knew about midway through that wild season that I was really hooked on politics, covering candidates and dissecting positions 24/7, and that I had made a name for myself as a serious political reporter. Two other TV stations, one in Roanoke and another in Norfolk, asked me to do a weekly commentary and analysis of the campaign from Richmond.

I found that I knew enough to do it, to analyze the ebb and flow of that ferocious battle, which Godwin won with just 50.72 percent of the vote.

I stopped following politics quite so intensely when I left broadcasting in 1978. But I never lost interest. Even though I was now working at a fine arts museum, my friends would call me on election day to ask who they should vote for. I'd give them the briefing they wanted, long or short, and they'd head confidently to the polls.

Today, I no longer talk politics in groups or in casual conversation. Sadly, the country is so divided that tempers get out of hand.

There are exceptions. I have one good friend and one relative with whom I can talk about candidates and policies. Sometimes we get loud. Sometimes we disagree utterly. But more often, we find positions to agree upon, despite our broader differences.

Politicians themselves don't seem to be able to do that these days.

More's the pity.