DAVE DAVIES, host:
This is FRESH AIR. I'm Dave Davies, in for Terry Gross.
The death of veteran newsman and NPR analyst Daniel Schorr last Friday evoked memories for anybody who's followed public life in America. Mine were from college, when the Watergate scandal was unfolding: looking forward to the evening news every day to see Schorr's fearless reporting.
Over his 70-year journalism career, Dan Schorr was tossed out of the Soviet Union for defying censors, fought to get stories on the air that made CBS executives uncomfortable and pursued Watergate so doggedly that he made Richard Nixon's enemies list. He once said he was prouder of that than his three Emmy Awards.
NPR was privileged to have Schorr as a news analyst for the last 25 years. Terry spoke to him in 1994, when he narrated a documentary about Watergate on the 20th anniversary of Nixon's resignation.
TERRY GROSS, host:
Do you think that the gravity of Watergate looks any different now in retrospect than it did to you at the time?
DANIEL SCHORR: Well, I think people have tended to devalue Watergate by this device of adding the word gate to a lot of other things that have happened since. And, you know, you look back, and I can remember something called Koreagate involving some bribery and corruption of congressmen by South Korea. I can remember something called, at one time, Billygate, which had to do with President Carter's brother having represented, without reporting the same, represented Libya in some things. And finally, Irangate, Iraqgate, BCCgate and all kinds of gates.
And if you add a certain number of gates, in the end, they all seem to become trivial. But when you go back over Watergate, you realize that Watergate was the index against all against which all other scandals involving the White House have to be measured.
GROSS: Well, what I want to do is talk with you a little bit about what your life was like covering Watergate for CBS TV, and I thought we could start with what had to be one of the most dramatic moments of your journalism career. And I'm thinking of when you reporting live on Nixon's enemies list, which I believe you'd just been handed.
GROSS: What happened when you got to enemy number 17?
SCHORR: Well, exactly. I mean, here was John Dean testifying in June 1973 before Senator Ervin's Watergate Committee, and in his testimony, he said that at the White House, they had drawn up something called enemies lists, but he didn't read them, so that we waited until the end of the session to get the fist copies of what had been submitted in evidence.
And there we were outside the Senate Caucus Room, waiting for the hearing to break so that we could get in on the air. I saw we: Sam Donaldson of ABC and Douglas Kiker Sam Donaldson, ABC, Douglas Kiker of NBC and myself standing more or less shoulder to shoulder and talking into our own cameras, each wanting to be two or three seconds of the other in revealing whom the Nixon people considered to be enemies.
And so the thing was handed to me live on television. And I said: Here it is, the first of the enemies list from John Dean. It's headed on screwing our political enemies, and let me read it to you. I see there 20 numbered names. And I went down the list and came, indeed, as you suggested to number 17, where is said Daniel Schorr, a real media enemy.
And I kind of gulped and went right down to the next name and down to the last name, which Mary McGrory, and said now back to you, trying as hard as I could to pretend that my name belonged to somebody else because I had suddenly been dragged into the story I was covering, and that is for me, a real no-no. I mean, I want to stand outside, and they had pulled me inside.
GROSS: Okay. So you tried to not reveal what you were feeling on the air, but what is it that you were feeling when you came up to Number 17?
SCHORR: Well, what I was feeling - I mean, it didn't really bother me that I was on the enemies list, although it didn't occur to me that I was important enough, in their terms, to get on the enemies list. So astonished was the word for it, but much more because I had sort of long life in journalism, from print to radio to television and all, that my standards were being violated.
I'm supposed to be an observer, the fly on the wall, and suddenly, I had to say my own name as part of the story that I was covering, and somehow, the electrifying effect of having to deal with that professional problem overcame everything else.
GROSS: Were you afraid you'd be taken off the beat?
SCHORR: In fact well, as a matter of fact, we then said, in packaging it for the CBS Evening News, we just consulted and said you'd better assign this part of the story to somebody else. I obviously can't do it. And that was obviously true.
GROSS: So what were you doing on the list?
SCHORR: Well, it's very hard to say what I was doing on the list. I had some general idea. Mind you, the list was drawn up in 1971. That's to say the list was a pre-Watergate list. A lot of things were dug up during the Watergate investigation from the past.
So the question was: What was it they had against me in 1971? Well, I had done a couple of stories in 1971 on CBS, which I know ruffled their feathers a little bit. I had reported, oh, that they had that President Nixon had serious reservations about going ahead with the anti-ballistic missile system, which he had inherited from previous administrations. And since they were trying to get new appropriations for it, his reservations didn't ring very well and all. And they got very angry with me about that.
There was also the fact that President Nixon made a speech in New York to a Catholic audience, to the Knights of Columbus, promising that he would find ways of giving federal help to parochial schools, although the Supreme Court had just come out with a decision saying that it was unconstitutional.
And in analyzing what the meaning of the speech was, I'd been asked by CBS to report what was it they were planning to do. And my inquiries indicated they weren't planning to do anything, and there wasn't anything they could do.
And so I went on the air after a cut of Nixon getting wonderful applause from the Knights of Columbus in New York and came right on and said yeah, that's what he said. But we find no evidence that there is anything they're going to do or can do, and it is all simply political rhetoric.
Well, that speech had been written by Pat Buchanan, and he didn't take very kindly to that. And as we have subsequently discovered from many, many investigations, he then called President Nixon, who was traveling, and Nixon had somebody call J. Edgar Hoover, and that was how the FBI investigation of me started.
But in 1971, I was covering, simply covering whole aspects of what the Nixon administration was doing, which had to do with civil rights and had to do with housing and urban problems and all, and when I found that they were making promises and not keeping them, I had no hesitation in reporting that. And I guess no president likes it, but no president before has ever reacted so violently to it.
GROSS: Some people who made it onto that enemies considered it a badge of honor. Did you?
SCHORR: Oh, yes. Well, a badge of honor - it turned out to be very useful. First of all, by the time I was aware of the enemies list, I knew nothing ever was going to happen about it, although I had been audited, rather curiously, by the IRS.
But yes, there were buttons handed out by some well-meaning people that read Dean's list, and after a while, I found it was increasing my invitations to the dinner parties that I liked to go to, and adding to my lecture fee.
(Soundbite of laughter)
SCHORR: So, you know as I recall, you know...
GROSS: Boy, did they do you a favor.
SCHORR Yeah, did they do - and some of my colleagues who were not on the enemies list came to be a little resentful. Dan Rather, who had been covering the White House then, somehow didn't make it on the enemies list, and he didn't like that at all.
GROSS: Now, President Nixon also ordered an FBI investigation of you on the pretext that you were in line for a top federal job. So, of course, they had to investigate you. How did you find out about this investigation?
SCHORR: Well, very simply. Now, he what happened, he had Haldeman have his assistant Larry Higby call J. Edgar Hoover and simply say the boss, the president, wants to have some background stuff on a correspondent named Daniel Schorr.
And apparently, Hoover misunderstood - either really misunderstood or maybe mischievously chose to misunderstand. The word background, as used by the FBI, is commonly used for background checks on people who are going to be nominated to presidential positions, presidential appointments.
And so there apparently was some misunderstanding, with the result that the investigation that was ordered by Hoover was basically a wide-open investigation in which agents called up my employer, called up members of my family and indeed sent an FBI agent up to CBS to interview me.
And when I said, what is this all about, he said, well, presumably you know, these are usually done for pre-appointment investigations. And I said, but nobody's offered me anything.
When the word got back that this had happened, they quickly and rather precipitously called off the investigation and then began to have a damage control meeting as to what to do when the story came out. And so all those wonderful people, Ron Ziegler and Chuck Colson, all got together, and they said well, the only thing we can do is to say that he was under consideration for a job, however preposterous that may seem, and actually indentify a job.
GROSS: What job did they come up with?
SCHORR: It was public relations person for the Council on Environmental Quality, which was then headed by Russell Train, who a long time later apologized to me profusely, because he knew that he had been used for that purpose.
GROSS: You must have been so amused, thinking of the Nixon administration hiring you for a PR job.
SCHORR: Well, I didn't believe it, of course.
GROSS: Yeah, no. Right.
SCHORR: I never believed it, but they, with a straight face, put out that story. And then in the end, what happened was that they had to testify under oath about it before the Senate Watergate committee, and then again before the House Judiciary Committee, which was holding impeachment hearings.
And they had to confess that the purpose of the investigation of me was quite adverse and that they had tried to cover it up, and all of that was confessed. And in the end, when the Judiciary Committee approved three articles of impeachment against Nixon, Article 2 was called Abuse of Power, and under that was listed the FBI investigation of me. So I became a part of the history of the impeachment of Nixon in that very odd way. Do you want me to tell you how that story ended many years later?
GROSS: Sure, yeah. Sure.
SCHORR: Well, the interesting was, in the months before his death, Nixon and I had a kind of a reconciliation of sorts. I found myself being invited to small dinners where Nixon was giving briefings on his trips to the former Soviet Union.
And at one of these, the first of these dinners, I was wondering if he remembered who I was or why I was being invited, and unable to resist that temptation, at the end of dinner, I went up to Nixon, and I said: Mr. Nixon, I'm not sure that you will remember me, but - and he interrupted me, and he said, oh, sure, Dan Schorr. Damn near hired you once.
(Soundbite of laughter)
GROSS: Did he believe that?
SCHORR: No, he didn't believe that. That was his little joking way of trying to make up. No, no, no. It was a quip. He said it with a smile, and I'm sure he had worked it out in his mind that he was going to say it to me. But the fact of the matter was he wanted to be forgiven or forgotten or whatever, and I found it not difficult to do that.
GROSS: Why did you find it not difficult to do that?
SCHORR: Well, for one thing, because I had a certain amount of respect for his 20-year campaign after resignation to try to rehabilitate himself. You know, he was a man who had done many comebacks, and I thought the toughest comeback of all was running for ex-president.
And I had to respect that. And because, you know, he who is without blemish should be casting stones around. I my life is I consider life too short to have grudges, retain grudges, and furthermore, I find him interesting.
And he invited me to join a foreign policy institute that he wanted to plan in Washington, and as far as I'm concerned, anywhere I can go and talk to people who know something and help me in my work, well, why not? That was 20-odd years ago, and there's a statute of limitations on all things.
GROSS: Did you get your Freedom of Information Act files?
SCHORR: Yes, I did. I got my FBI file on a Freedom of Information application and found out, step-by-step, what had happened. What I also found out is that the FBI is not a very efficient organization.
The first message in the file had to do with Hoover saying that Hoover giving orders for an expedite investigation that the White House wanted of me, and then added at the end that I was last identified as a CBS correspondent in Germany, according to Who's Who. And so they were sending a message to the FBI representative at the American embassy in Bonn.
This, mind you, was five years after I had come back from Germany and had been on CBS television almost every night, and the FBI had no way to look me up except in Who's Who - an outdated Who's Who, at that - which listed me as correspondent in Germany.
DAVIES: Daniel Schorr, speaking with Terry Gross, recorded in 1994. We'll hear more of that interview after a break. This is FRESH AIR.
(Soundbite of music)
DAVIES: We're listening back to Terry's 1994 interview with veteran newsman and NPR analyst Daniel Schorr, who died last Friday. Schorr won three Emmy Awards for his coverage of the Watergate scandal.
GROSS: You were working for CBS, covering the story for them. What was it like being a TV reporter covering Watergate? I mean, this really was the kind of story that required so much detailed investigative work. It wasn't a pictures kind of story.
SCHORR: That's a very perceptive question. For a long time, it was a newspaper story - a Washington Post story, but also the New York Times, L.A. Times carried elements of it. And it was very, very tough for a while because I was not keeping up with the newspapers, which were, on the whole, doing a better job.
Indeed, the first big thing that we did - well, I had a couple of small scoops of one kind or another, but not really very significant compared to the developing story. And, in fact, the - probably the greatest contribution we made in the early days - that is before the '72 election - was a decision to assemble all the known material, everything that had been in newspapers elsewhere, and put on a very long, two-part series on the CBS Evening News of about nine, 10, 11 minutes each.
And we didn't claim that we were original on it, but we did claim to be telling the country what a lot of Washington Post readers knew, but the country didn't.
And so that became our contribution, enough of a contribution, in fact, so that the White House, Chuck Colson, called Bill Paley, the head of CBS, and threatened him with loss of television stations and so on if he didn't stop doing this Watergate series.
GROSS: And what was the response of CBS?
SCHORR: Well, alas, the response of Bill Paley was - well, the first piece had already been on, on a Friday night, and they had billboarded the next big piece was Monday. And then it didn't go on Monday, and it went on Tuesday considerably truncated, on the orders - personal orders of Bill Paley.
GROSS: You must have been pretty angry about that.
SCHORR: Yes, indeed. We were all angry about that. I mean, this was not just myself. We - all of us, it was a cooperative effort involving everybody in the Washington bureau, and we were furious, yes - and particularly furious because CBS had been so good on Watergate up until that point, and then sort of cracked at a crucial moment.
GROSS: Did you ever worry about self-censorship, that you would not say things because of the damage that would be done to your reputation from the White House or the hurt that could come to your network because of a report?
SCHORR: I wasn't no, I maybe should have worried a little more about it. Maybe I would not have been on the enemies list or investigated by the FBI or called up and bawled out at midnight one night by President Johnson and once by President Kennedy.
Maybe I should have paid more attention to the fact that these people don't really like being criticized that way, but I didn't. But my problems were very rarely with the government, other than with Nixon. Problems tend to be more within your own organization.
Imagine, on one occasion, when I came back after Nixon had resigned. I went on vacation, came back, and then a new story was starting. Revelations were starting to be made about the CIA, what it had been up to.
And so I was assigned what I call the son of Watergate correspondent job, and that was covering the investigations of the CIA. Well, just imagine, in the course of following the investigations by Congress of the CIA, there came a story that Paley, Bill Paley, had, in the 1950s, done a favor for his friends at the CIA, allowing them to use CBS cover for CIA agents - unthinkable thing to do, and very endangering to CBS correspondents everywhere. I had the job of getting that on the CBS Evening News, and I did.
GROSS: How'd you do it?
SCHORR: Well, I told them that the story was in the hands of the New York Times, and that it was going to be in the papers tomorrow, anyway, and isn't it better if we break our own story and convince the Cronkite show, evening news people to do it?
And there it was with a picture of Paley and my reporting, giving his denial and all the rest of. Later on, when I got into terrible trouble with CBS, Bill Safire wrote in the New York Times that my real trouble had been by revealing Paley's secret of his CIA connections, that he had never forgiven me for that. That may be true.
GROSS: Some people who were considered Nixon's enemies and who found that their phones were tapped or on the enemies list became very paranoid, I think, after that, you know, wondering, well, who's out to get me now? Who's tapping my phone now?
Really, in a lot of ways, that was a very paranoid period because a lot of people were afraid that they were being followed by the FBI, even if they weren't.
I'm wondering if you ever felt that there was a kind of permanent aftereffect on you of knowing that you really were being investigated by the FBI, and you really were on a president's enemies list.
SCHORR: Well, no. For one thing, it was so uniquely Nixon. And understand, it was in 1973 that we were finding out what had happened in 1971, which meant that by the time we were finding it out, Nixon was already on the ropes, and one just simply tied that to that era.
And when, you know, when President Ford took over and said that's the end of our national nightmare, well, all right, we were all ready to believe that, that we'd go back to some kind of normalcy, that we've been through some nightmare. And I guess that was how we felt.
DAVIES: Daniel Schorr, speaking with Terry Gross in 1994. Schorr died last Friday. You can hear Dan Schorr remembrances from Scott Simon, Robert Siegel and Susan Stamberg at our website, freshair.npr.org. We'll hear more of Terry's interview with Dan Schorr in the second half of today's show.
I'm Dave Davies, and this is FRESH AIR.
(Soundbite of music)
DAVIES: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Dave Davies in for Terry Gross. Today we're remembering veteran journalist Daniel Schorr, who died last Friday. Schorr had a long career at CBS and was an analyst at NPR for 25 years.
Terry spoke to him in 1994, when he'd narrated documentary about Watergate.
GROSS: Daniel Schorr, I'd like to talk with you a little bit about your early years, your coming of age and your start in journalism. I was wondering if you could tell us a little bit about the neighborhood you grew up in.
SCHORR: Well, I grew up in the Bronx, in a semi-poor but respectable neighborhood. And from a very early age, as far as I can even remember, journalism was all I wanted to do. And I remember the first money I earned from journalism. When I was about 13 years old, we lived on the ground floor of a tenement, and one day I heard a big plop outside the window and looked out the window, and lying there was somebody who had fallen or jumped off the roof.
So cool, as a reporter ought to be, I waited for police to arrive, found out what I could, and called the local newspaper, which paid $5 for news tips and dictated a story. And that was really, in a sense, a benchmark for what was to be my career, and that if you can see something which might affect you and find yourself not affected, except wants to know what it's all about so you can explain it to other people, I think that's the basis of a journalistic career. Is removing yourself from drama so you can describe the drama.
GROSS: Well, you know, exactly. I mean I'm thinking how many - how old were you when this happened?
GROSS: Okay. A lot of 13 year olds would've been plagued by nightmares after seeing somebody fall to their death.
GROSS: And instead, youre doing investigative work and calling in the story.
(Soundbite of laughter)
SCHORR: Well, right. And that's how I've tried to have it be through most of my life, although, people sometimes dont let it be that way. I got dragged into my Watergate story. When I later on covered the CIA story, in the end I found myself being threatened with a jail term for contempt of Congress. When they demanded that I reveal where I got the report - Congressional report - which the House of Representatives had voted to suppress...
GROSS: And parenthetically, I'll put in, that had a lot to do with your falling out with CBS.
SCHORR: And that had a lot to do with my falling out with CBS, which yes, which did not wish in 1976, when cable television was first beginning to come on, CBS did not want to be placed in an adversary position to Congress, which was beginning to pass legislation on that. So they were horrified to see me as a symbol of a confrontation between CBS and Congress, and they didnt like that.
GROSS: Well, back to Dan Schorr the early years. I know your father died when you were young, and you had to go to work at an early age. What kind of jobs did you do when you were young?
SCHORR: Well, I delivered newspapers, which maybe was one way of approaching journalism. I sold magazines, The Saturday Evening Post and so on, and that kind of thing, earning as much money as I could because we really needed it. My mother, widowed, was working in the needle trades in New York. My younger brother had been very ill during most of his early life, and so money was really Terry - I'm talking about Depression years. I'm talking 1929 and '30, '31. and in the end I managed to get into City College, which was free or I would not have gone to college at all.
GROSS: Were your parents immigrants or were they born...
GROSS: So did they speak English well?
SCHORR: No. No. Well, I really dont remember how well my father spoke English because I was about five when he died and I have very little memory of that. My mother spoke with an accent for all of her life, although, she pretty well educated herself and read a great deal and was very literate, but that accent remains. I guess maybe this is the time even to reveal that our name when my parents arrived in New York from Russia was not even Schorr. It was a different name. My father gave his name on arrival. The officer said, what's your name? And my father gave it. The name was Chianamoritz, which in Russian means black sea. And the immigration officer asked for it a couple of times, so my mother told me, and unable to write it down, write down Schorr, S-C-H-O-R-R, and said Mr. Schorr, welcome to America.
GROSS: Did you feel in a way that you had to be a journalist for your mother? A lot of - what I mean is...
SCHORR: No. No.
GROSS: No? Because what I mean is, you know, a lot of times when a kid is growing up who was born in America, sometimes that kid has to translate not only the language but a lot of the culture for the parent.
SCHORR: Well, that's right and journalism didnt transfer very well into their culture. When my mother asked me at about 13, 14 what I wanted to be and I said a journalist, she looked at me very disapprovingly. So you dont want something like lawyer or doctor with a degree? Which is what Jewish kids did. You know, lawyer or a doctor, those were the two things. And journalists didnt carry a degree. In fact, I recall my mother saying to me, journalist, isn't that a little bit like show business?
(Soundbite of laughter)
SCHORR: At that time it...
GROSS: Little did she know.
SCHORR: Little did she know.
(Soundbite of laughter)
SCHORR: But I said yes, and she came to - she came to accept it. She came actually, to be a little proud of it. She came to understand that journalism was A, respectable and B, that you could make a living at it, more important.
GROSS: So what did you read when you were young that made you so excited by the idea of journalism?
SCHORR: I'm not sure I needed to read anything to be excited by the idea of journalism. It was just somewhere in my blood or in my genes. I guess we dont use the scientific words anymore. But, for example, when I went to Hebrew school I started a newspaper in the Hebrew school, a monthly paper. When I went to high school, DeWitt Clinton High School, I worked on the Clinton News. When I went to City College, I worked on the City College campus. And I dont ever recall it being even a conscious choice of any kind. There was never any profession that I rejected. I just was a journalist.
GROSS: You know, this innate feeling that it was your job to detach yourself from what was happening and describe it, did that apply to very emotional things that were happening to you too? Did you find yourself trying to distance yourself from that and describe it as well?
SCHORR: Well, that's interesting. That's interesting. That maybe gets us deeper into psyche that I really planned to go. But since you ask, I wondered myself about it. I wondered myself about this dispassionate, disinterested view that I have of world and dramatic events and sometimes tragic events, and wonder whether unable to come to terms with the death of my father when I was very young, that I was able then to deal with my father's death by removing myself from it and thus, learned to remove myself from a great many painful things.
DAVIES: Daniel Schorr, speaking with Terry Gross, recorded in 1994. Well hear more after a break. This is FRESH AIR.
(Soundbite of music)
DAVIES: We're listening back to Terry's 1994 interview with veteran news man and NPR analyst Daniel Schorr, who died last Friday.
GROSS: I think it was in 1953 that you were recruited by Edward R. Murrow for the CBS News team. I mean this is the most celebrated news team in television history. What was it like for you? Did it feel worthy of the celebration?
SCHORR: That was interesting too. This is 1953, and I was working in Western Europe, living in Holland, working in Western Europe as a stringer for various New York Times, for Time Magazine and for CBS. And in 1953, February, there was an enormous storm that broke the dikes, something that hadn't happened in hundreds of years, broke the dikes in Southern Holland. A large part of the country was devastated by flood. And I did some fairly dramatic reporting on that for CBS, as well as for others, and Murrow was impressed.
He sent a cable which was, which read: would you at all consider joining the staff of CBS with an initial assignment in Washington? And so, then I went to work for CBS, but I'll tell you, with some reservations. Those were the early days when a newspaper person thought of radio and television as not really quite journalism, but somewhere closer to show business, and I sort of worried a little bit about that. But I thought I would try it and see if it was possible to do.
I must say that in the first days in Washington, Scotty Reston, a friend of mine at The New York Times, every once in a while would say to me, have you had enough? And I'd say no, Scotty. Maybe soon, but not yet, as though I was still giving it a trial.
Well, trial at CBS lasted for 25 years and, you know, I opened a Moscow bureau for CBS and came back and joined that group of people that Murrow would have at the end of the year discussing the affairs of the world. People revered to me like Alex Kendrick, and Howard Smith and David Schoenbrun, who maybe I revered less, but respected all them same, and here was I feeling that I was really in very, very big and important company.
And I could remember the first time I appeared on that show. I had just come back from Moscow and appeared on this avid show of an hour and a half and when we just finished taping it, I was sitting there at this circle. Murrow sort of walked over and looked at me this was a very understated man - walked over and looked at me and said, Schorr, you'll do.
(Soundbite of laughter)
GROSS: Did that feel really good?
SCHORR: That felt very, very good.
(Soundbite of laughter)
GROSS: When you were covering the Soviet Union for CBS, you were eventually thrown out of the country. I think this was in 1957.
GROSS: And you were denounced by Pravda as a provocateur...
GROSS: ...and adventurer. And I'm not sure I know what it means to be denounced as an adventurer.
SCHORR: Well, those are words which have sort of better meaning in Russian than they have in English. It is sort of a synonym for provocateur, someone who's trying to stir up trouble. I had indeed made trouble. They had official censorship then. You had to submit your scripts, newspaper stories. You'd submit them and wait for them to come back with sometimes things excised. Radio scripts, you had to sort of submit and wait until they came back before you could broadcast them, sometimes missing your circuit, which wasnt wonderful. And that would irritate me. And at times when that would happen, I would go in and try to read my script anyway.
Sometimes I'd read a script where a paragraph had been taken out and I was particularly fond of that paragraph so I'd read it anyway. And then I was warned that I was violating censorship and I said well, listen, I dont believe in censorship. And so that became a problem for them. And in the end, they would do things like having me arrested briefly on some trumped up thing by the KGB as a warning, and then eventually decided enough was enough, in spite of the fact that I had made history in the Soviet Union by doing the first ever television interview with a Soviet leader, Nikita Khrushchev. And so I thought maybe that would give me a little bit of protection. In the end it didnt. in the end, when the KGB was mad at me, not even being identified with Khrushchev helped.
GROSS: Through all your career as a reporter, you tried to keep yourself out of the story. And as an analyst, I mean, your thoughts are the story. Your analysis is the story.
SCHORR: But not my emotions.
GROSS: But not your emotions. Right. Right.
SCHORR: And I think that, to sort of anticipate your question, but if I haven't anticipated it right you'll tell me, I think that news analysis goes along with objective journalism.
SCHORR: As long as you say the way you think things are instead of the way you want things to be. Information has become something altogether too complex for people to be able to understand without some help from people with background. So I dont regard news analysis on NPR or anywhere as being different from what I consider to be the objective journalism, which has been my idol.
GROSS: So in other words, youre saying that you see analysis as being in part about synthesis, so that to help people make sense of a lot of facts and put them into some kind of context?
SCHORR: That's right. In CNN age - in the age of CNN, where things are brought to you live, you can see happening everything that's happening and have everything there except understanding what it means. And I think the more live news people get, the more they need help in understanding it.
GROSS: Well, I want to thank you so much for talking with us.
SCHORR: My pleasure.
DAVIES: Daniel Schorr, speaking with Terry Gross, recorded in 1994. Schorr died last Friday. He was 93.
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