The following are excerpts from publisher McMillan, Bloedel, Wayne & Schuster’s recent release Giving TV News a Black Rock Eye: An Insider’s View of CBS News, written by Irving Vasterre. Mr. Vasterre, 28, has been delivering pizzas to CBS headquarters for well over 10 years.
* * *
In the beginning, there were giants, and none bigger than Edward R. Murrow. Even before he joined the television network, Murrow had made a reputation for his courageous radio reports from London during the Blitz. As host of the groundbreaking documentary programme See It Now (the first episode of which began with pictures from both coasts), Murrow set the standard for investigative journalism that has yet to be equaled in its vision or integrity.
I never met Edward R. Murrow, but I bet he was a swell guy.
* * *
Dan Rather, host of the CBS Evening News, did not like pizza. I took this as a sign that, after so many years reporting on national and international politics, and with the tremendous salary he was reported to be pulling down, he had lost his feeling for the common person. (By way of contrast, Walter Cronkite, his predecessor, didn’t care much for pizza, either, but nobody seemed to mind because, let’s face it, nobody wants to eat pizza with their father.) However, many members of the technical crew on the set loved pizza, and I usually delivered there three times a week.
One evening, I was walking through the executive offices when I heard a voice shouting. Curious, I made my way to a half-opened door, from which the shouting emanated, and heard, “…does Friendly think he is? He’s been out of news so long, he wouldn’t know a lead if it walked up to him with a calling card!”
I was standing outside the office of Don Hewitt, the father of 60 Minutes! He was obviously talking about Fred Friendly, a former President of CBS News and co-editor of Murrow’s See It Now. I had always thought they were good friends, but, ever since Friendly spoke out against news anchors making multi-million dollar contract deals, his reception at CBS had been less than, well, friendly.
“Yeah,” Don said. (I guess he was talking on the phone.) “Maybe I am being a too harsh. I’ll talk to Fred about it. You want me to bring anything home for dinner?”
Not wishing to disturb Mr. Hewitt, I hurried off. By the time it was delivered, the pizza was cold, and I didn’t get much of a tip. But, the insight I had gained into the inner workings of the organization was well worth it.
* * *
Laurence Tisch, the “White Knight” who kept CBS out of the hands of corporate terminator Ted Turner only to start dismantling the company himself, had the kind of face that, once animated, could stop Hannibal’s march across the Alps. I was told a completely apocryphal story about Tisch, reporter Charles Kuralt and a pack of pit bull terriers, but it doesn’t bear repeating here. (The person who told it to me is now working on a weekly shopper in Sacramento – suffice it to say that the pit bulls did not get the better of the confrontation.)
I first met Larry on an elevator in Black Rock late one night. I had just delivered a pizza to an editing room where Diane Sawyer and Morley Safer were working on segments for 60 Minutes. It was a large, half pepperoni, double cheese, half pineapple, chopped steak, anchovies. This was in keeping with their different on-air styles. In hindsight, I don’t think they needed a large pizza for just the two of them – perhaps this was an example of the extravagance which was threatening the stability of the network.
“You…you’re Laurence Tisch, aren’t you?” I asked, awed.
His eyes narrowed. Inadvertently, I flinched under the gaze that had launched a thousand takeovers. “Yeah,” he said. “Wilson…no…Witcombe, right? Haven’t you been fired, yet?”
“Oh, no,” I hastily corrected him. “I don’t work here, I just de – I’m just passing through. But, I am a…well, a fan of your management style. Do you think, umm, I could have your autograph?”
Larry relaxed a little. “Sorry,” he told me, “but, I don’t sign anything until my lawyers have checked it over thoroughly.”
“Not even a blank piece of paper?” I asked.
“Especially not a blank piece of paper,” Larry grimly replied. Then, tensing again, he asked, “You’re not planning to write a book about this encounter, are you?”
I told him the thought hadn’t occurred to me. “That’s all we need,” he growled. “Do you realize that by the year 2000 more books will have been written on CBS than any other subject, including both World Wars, religion, UFOs and Walt Disney! There will be over 100 pages of history for every person who has ever worked here! It’s insane!”
“I don’t intend to write another expose,” I insisted.
“If Rather’s hairdresser thinks he can write an insider account of CBS, why not a visitor to the building?” Tishc muttered, and got off.
Well, I guess I owe you an apology, Larry. I really had no intention of writing a book, but, I figured that what I knew was too important to keep from people.