Yesterday the world lost he who was considered the most trusted name in broadcast journalism: Walter Cronkite. Though serious journalism seems to be a thing of the past in the wake of today’s new “commentary” style delivery of the news, we who grew up in the era where news was broadcast without any personal opinion or speculation on the part of the reporter remember Walter Cronkite as the national news anchor on whose “just the facts” words we could rely. During my very early childhood Walter was part of my daily routine. I would go to school (or await my siblings return home from school before I myself was old enough to go), then there would be a string of kids in our home for their weekly piano lessons from my father. As soon as the last one left my father would sit down with a glass of Sherry and a handful of nuts or a few crackers and watch the nightly news before dinner. The minute it was over, my mother had dinner on the table and we sat, as a family of six, and ate dinner together. I remember distinctly, as a child of six years old, huddling with my family around our tiny black and white television to watch Cronkite’s coverage of the Apollo 11 moon landing. It was so exciting. In 1998 I photographed Walter Cronkite, seven years after he had retired from broadcast journalism. He was the giant in his field whose integrity and professionalism was and is the gold standard.