I've only become politically aware in the past decade, and by default I also became aware of Tim Russert. Though I hadn't watched political TV much, something about Tim Russert's style was shiningly different than the mundane 60 Minutes, Face the Nation and Meet the Press type of news show I had become familiar with during sleepy Sundays at my grandmother's house in Chattanooga. It wasn't a bunch of craggy-faced old men speaking in quiet monotones about boring topics. Instead these were the issues that truly shaped our world, presented in a compelling and accessible way. Russert presented senators and congressmen from each side of the aisle as though they were Muhammad Ali and Evander Holyfield meeting at center ring. And he himself belted Republicans and Democrats alike with merciless right hooks and deadly uppercuts.

But something elevated Tim Russert above his contemporaries like Bill O'Reilly or Chris Matthews: there was no sense of an adversarial relationship there. Russert would furrow his brow and confront a senator with something he had said. The senator would deny it, then Russert would say, "Here's where you said it on this very program one year ago. Let's take a look." Despite the fact that senator had just been made to look like a total fool in front of all of Washington and his constituency back home, at the end of the program Russert would offer a handshake and smile so sincere, who could stay mad at him?

Apparently no one. I've been amazed to hear the memories of friends, colleagues, co-workers and former interview subjects on TV. Usually when anyone dies people have to reach for something nice to say, frequently grasping only a handful of cliches. In the case of Tim Russert there seem to be mountains of anecdotal evidence that he was every bit as nice and down-to-earh as we perceived him to be on TV.

There's the other side, of course. I went around the Internet looking for public reaction with some trepidation, and my misgivings were not misgiven. Some seem to almost dance in celebration at his demise (usually Republicans who thought he was a Democratic hatchetman, sometimes Democrats who thought the reverse), while others affect a "I'm so cool and aloof, hip and detached that Tim Russert's death affects me less than the nick I got shaving this morning" attitude. Such small, crappy people will never have anyone lining up to sing their praises after they die, though a few may murmur, "Good riddance!"

I myself had turned on Russert a bit lately because he seemed to be so clearly shilling for Barack Obama. He hardly cared to conceal his bias against Hillary Clinton, in my perception. However...so the guy had a favorite candidate? Don't we all? I feel bad for the nasty things I said to the TV. Sorry, Tim.

If anything I feel like I've really learned something about how to live life, hearing people talk about their firsthand experiences of Tim Russert. A guy who never tired of talking about his admiration for his garbage collector father, something that most careerists would have hidden at all cost. A guy so deeply committed to his Catholic faith that even after interviewing presidents and prime ministers he was reduced to a awestruck 10-year-old boy when he got to meet the Pope. And a guy who wrote a note to one of his employees' newborn children telling them that they had wonderful parents, had entered a wonderful world, and could one day intern on Meet the Press.

I hope to be more like Tim Russert was. Sometimes nice guys finish first.