It was 6:45 a.m. and I was boarding the early morning Jet Blue flight from Austin to New York City. My blurry and emotionally drained state had obviously fogged my perception because when I said "excuse me" to the gentleman sitting in the aisle seat of my row and scooted past him, I did not recognize he was Dan Rather. After I gathered my bearings and settled into my window seat, I realized out of the corner of my eye that Dan Rather, remarkably one of the most visible and well-known journalists of the 20th century, was sitting directly next to me reading The New York Times.
I knew that it was no coincidence that I, an aspiring journalist, was sitting next to such an expert. I like to call situations like that a "God thing." I couldn't pass up the chance to have a conversation with him.
I hesitated to lean forward and jerk my head to the left to make sure I was fully awake. Pulling myself together and trying to remain as cool as possible, I calmly grabbed the only book that I had in my overstuffed purse: "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows."
I cursed myself for not picking up a newspaper on the way to my gate. I was stuck reading a children's book next to the man who had reported the CBS evening news for more than 20 years, traveled to Bosnia and Moscow and interviewed Saddam Hussein.
Thirty minutes into the flight, I gathered enough nerve to initiate a conversation.
"Excuse me, do you mind me asking what brought you to Austin?" I asked.
His response was, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Abort, abort, I was thinking. How can I get out of this situation now?
However, I continued with, "What brought you to Austin?"
"I'm sorry, my ears aren't working as well today as they usually do, what did you say?" he said in his familiar articulate drawl.
I asked again, and he finally responded by saying he and his wife are both Texans and live in Austin several months out of the year. Then he asked what brought me to Austin.
"Well, I grew up here and now I go to UT," I said, sighing with relief from his reciprocation. "I'm actually a journalism student in the College of Communication."
Mr. Rather perked up, and I was glad to have slipped in that piece of information. Now the objective was to stun him with my intelligence and sophistication.
He asked what I wanted to do with my degree and what I enjoyed about writing. Before I knew it, Dan Rather and I were engaged in a stimulating tête-à-tête about the journalism field, and he was dishing out advice on reporting. I felt as if my body was floating above me, looking down and asking, "Is this really
happening?"
I asked where he began working and how he got into the field. Our heart-to-heart flowing organically like a Rocky Mountain stream, I mentally took notes on every piece of wisdom he shared. It's not every day that a
22-year-old journalism student is presented with the occasion to bounce questions off of the first network reporter to tell America the news of President John F. Kennedy's assassination.
The plane ride was a total of three-and-a-half hours, and Mr. Rather and I chatted on and off for the majority of the time. We touched on what seemed like every issue from our personal backgrounds, including relationship struggles due to the strain of reporting and the importance of a woman in the field remaining true to herself. He told me stories of young female reporters losing themselves and "sleeping their way to the top," only to ultimately crash and burn.
He rarely cracked a smile during our conversation, but intently looked into my eyes with assurance when he spoke, just as he's been known to report the news. I laughed when he told me that at the start of his career he considered reporting purely a job, and was mainly focused on providing for his family.
"Well, I think you've done pretty well for yourself," I told him. He cocked his head and chuckled, probably realizing how silly it seemed now that he was so anxious about "bringing home the bacon."
This was before he sued CBS for $70 million, FYI.
We reached several breaks in conversation when we would each read our respective material. Reading The New York Times front to back while I read "Harry Potter," he luckily did not make fun of my childish interest.
During one of our periods of silence, he turned to me and asked if I had a pad of paper or notebook. He said he usually carries that around, but did not have either with him today. I apologized and showed him that all I had was an orange day planner, but he was welcome to tear a page out (I mean, come on, you're Dan Rather).
Well, he obviously did not take my wallet, but he did write down his contact information which, by the way, I will not exploit. That stays between Mr. Rather and me.
He wrote down the names of three books he insisted I read. He encouraged me to read "Golden Girl" because it is the life story of Jessica Savitch, a female journalist who "lost her way." He gave me a jab and said that one of his suggested books is grim, "but it's no Harry Potter."
He was candid, intelligent and spoke to me as though we weren't 54 years apart in age.
In light of his recent media attention, I wanted to share my encounter with Dan Rather. The next time I am in New York, I sure as hell plan to take him up on his offer to show me around his office, and, who knows, maybe he'll offer me a job (yeah right).
One thing is for sure; the real Dan Rather made a Dan Rather-fan out of me. Page is a journalism junior and campus-beat senior reporter for The Daily Texan.
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