On The Death of Alistair Cooke

In American broacasting, one of the most interesting, elegant,and thoughtful voices was that of Alistair Cooke who died yesterday at the age of 95.

In America he was best remembered for his hosting of a program called “Omnibus,” which ran on Sunday afternoons. For a kid in the heartland, it was the chance to get to know the important things going on in the world, especially of the arts, and Cooke was a knowledgeable guide, and a remarkable example of what a liberal arts education might produce.

Subsequently, he became the host of Masterpiece Theatre on PBS and introduced us to the best realizations of English literature we'd ever seen. His words did more than just introduce the program - they gave us a context to help illuminate our viewing of it.

He was a graduate of Cambridge University but came to us early in life and decided to stay. He became an American citizen several decades ago, and settled in New York where he plied his trade as broadcast presenter, writer, aspiring jazz musician, and raconteur.

He was one of those guys who knew everybody but didn’t feel obliged to let you know that, he wore dark suits well, and his soft voice belied the intensity of his eyes.

When he came through my town after publishing a book on America, I stood in line to have my copy autographed. Because of the length of the line, he just signed, not looking up or even saying hello. Disappointing yes, but sometimes just being in the presence, however briefly, of someone you’ve admired from afar is enough.

Later on, when I was in radio and trying to start the Christmas Eve broadcast of “A Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols” from King’s College, Cambridge, I invited him to host the program. His reputation would help the broadcast, he was a graduate of Gonville and Caius College at Cambridge, and he could make sense of it for Americans. He demurred, according to his secretary, because of his many obligations, and I was sorry not to have had the opportunity to work with him.

For nearly six decades, Cooke's weekly “Letters From America ” for BBC Radio helped Britain understand something about us, and for those few of us who listened to them on shortwave, they helped us understand us, too, in spite of the fact that he would not allow them to be heard here. That did not change until evolving broadcasting technologies trumped his will.

With the arrival of BBC’s World Service on many public radio stations in the USA and on satellite radio, more of us were able to appreciate his detached involvement – or was it involved detachment – as he made sense of what seemed to be happening here.

What I shall never forget is the image of a lanky Brit on a fuzzy black and white screen introducing ideas and people and performances which I had heard about from my father after his return from a trip to New York or London. Seeing “it,” and not just talking about “it” made a difference to me, and Alistair Cooke, no matter what the medium, was a companionable guide who opened new realms for me.

It is not just his departure which is sad; what is sadder is that in looking around America, there appears to be no one to take his place…at a time when we desperately need considerable help understanding ourselves.