By David Sanders
My childhood pals dreamed of growing up to be professional athletes complete with their own shoe contract or sports trading card. And, while I tried as a junior high and high school linebacker to rush opposing quarterbacks as the New York Giants’ Lawrence Taylor might, I didn’t long for a professional career on the gridiron.
Instead, I wanted to grow up to be like another television star. Instead of using brute strength to manhandle would-be opponents, he relied on his keen intellect and skill as a debater — along with a brash style — to crush those who would try to match wits with him.
I wanted to be like Robert D. Novak, the famed political columnist whose voice filled my living room nearly every night after dinner as I tuned into him on CNN’s “Crossfire.” In addition to sharing a love for politics, we also shared two names — Novak’s two middle names are my first name and last name.
My step-grandfather clipped copies of Novak’s syndicated political column, which ran in over 300 newspapers across the country, and saved them for me to read when I would visit. I couldn’t wait to get my eyes on them to read about what scoop he’d uncovered in the “Inside Report.”
Shortly after graduating from college, I crossed paths with my childhood hero. As a young Republican, I was invited to attend a Republican National Committee meeting in sunny Palm Springs, Calif.
While the event provided a virtual who’s who of the GOP universe, there was a rather large contingent of media types who mingled with those whom they had been dispatched to cover. As luck would have it, my state’s national committeeman was unable to attend. So, he allowed me to carry his proxy, which afforded me, the young 20-something, all the benefits of the exclusive cabal.
The national committeeman from Michigan invited me to a reception in honor of former President Gerald Ford. As I made my way into the reception room, I noticed two large groups. On my left, President Ford greeted many of his old friends and supporters. On my right, Novak held court. Naturally I gravitated to Novak, who was busy responding to admirers’ questions. I stood there frozen, listening in on every conversation.
Finally, Novak noticed me and introduced himself. Like most people that weekend, he was very engaging as he encountered a novelty — a young conservative from Bill Clinton’s Arkansas.
Robert Novak, a syndicated columnist and conservative political commentator, died Aug. 18.
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At the time I had given up on a media career. I thought working in politics was my future. But a few years later life’s twists and turns put me back on the path to that childhood dream when I began writing columns. I appreciate Novak’s work now more than ever.
But as much as I admired what he did, I am more impressed by the way he lived — especially late in life.
Close to 11 years ago, Novak, who was Bar Mitzvahed as a young man, responded to what he said was the Holy Spirit’s call to fill the spiritual void in his life with faith. He and his wife had attended a local Episcopal Church in Washington, but he tired of its services and quit attending after church became more of a partisan political exercise than a spiritual experience.
He’d been drawn to the priest’s messages about God’s redemption and the forgiveness of sins at Washington’s St. Patrick’s Catholic parish. But, his conversion to Catholicism took place not long after he and a young evangelical-minded woman struck up a conversation about religion after he’d delivered a speech at Syracuse University.
She asked him when he would convert, but he told her that he hadn’t any plans to. She responded, by telling him “Life is temporary but faith is eternal.” He told colleagues that his encounter that night was the Holy Spirit’s way of telling him that “it was time to go.”
One of the highlights of my short career has been to serve as a journalism fellow with a Washington-based foundation on which Novak served as a trustee. In fact, I saw him last October as the fellows gathered for an event in the nation’s capital. He was weakened from the chemotherapy the doctors had used to treat his cancer, but he was still Novak, eager to talk about the inside political baseball he’d covered for over five decades.
On Tuesday, Novak succumbed to cancer that had invaded his body. It was an abrupt end to an era. I will always remember the brash, combative, confident childhood hero whose legacy in journalism and path to faith continue to inspire.