He once declared he had "won life's lottery" when he had achieved the pinnacle of his generation in bringing practical journalism to the people he loved. He had been born in Buffalo, of laboring parents who adhered to the strict Catholic faith one still finds among the American Irish.

To anyone who has read his telling memoir "Me and Big Russ" - the story of his relationship with his father, who had been his hero from his participation in World War II and later, to work two jobs to raise his family - his story told of his early life in school, and his taking his law degree before starting a storied career in journalism. We got a taste of an unusually adept and adaptable young man, whose vitality refreshed the soul of Patrick Moynihan, for whom he worked for a time.

The world was shocked this past Friday when the news hit us like a broadside telling us he had collapsed at work and died from a heart attack. Although I had never had the privilege of knowing him, I felt as if I had indeed lost a friend, one to whom I had likened to my own son.

I came to appreciate the work of a brilliant craftsman who loved his job, loved people, loved the intellectual stimulus he brought to carrying out a herculean task and making it look easy. He ran "Meet the Press" like a true genius, exposing the devious with short and accurate facts. He also interviewed big and small, poor and wealthy, and did his job so well that he became the longest running show on TV, since 1991.

The idea of family as his strongest value has been duly recorded and carried out to a remarkable degree. His father and son, Luke, still live and mourn him, as do all of us who, however tangentially, came under his positive influence and felt that, after watching his show, we had profited by spending the time.

May Tim Russert make the streets of Heaven peal with his contagious laughter, and may he rest in peace. God knows how we'll miss him!