Originally published on the CGS blog on June 20, 2007.
When I wasn’t outside playing baseball or some other sport in the spring and summer of 1973, I was glued to the TV set. Just shy of 13, I was enthralled by the historical and political theatre of the Senate hearings on Watergate. (I know; serious early warning signs of a political junkie).
It wasn’t until a few years later that I began to understand that the Watergate story evolved from the tenacious reporting of two young Washington Post reporters: Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. One of my early mentors, Janet Mendler, was my high school journalism teacher. She took our class to a movie in 1976, “All the President’s Men.” The movie, combined with my concurrent reading of the book, allowed me to dream of one day becoming a newspaper reporter, ala ‘Woodstein.’
In today’s Washington Post, David Segal profiles Bernstein. The story’s hook is Bernstein’s new book, “A Woman in Charge: The Life of Hillary Rodham Clinton.” However, Segal only takes a glance at Bernstein’s new book, and delves into the ups and downs of the famed journalist.
Like it or not, Bernstein is forever measured against the canny, tireless reporting and writing he did at the age of 28, after a break-in that ultimately ended a presidency. And he is forever measured against Bob Woodward, his onetime byline buddy and a modern publishing phenomenon. Stolid and utterly focused, Woodward has written more than a dozen books — six since Bernstein signed the Clinton deal in 1999, all of them bestsellers.
Woodward and Bernstein literally became a brand; the Kleenex or Windex of journalism, if you will. For me personally, they became heroes on the same pedestal as Gordie Howe, Alan Trammell and Dave Bing (Detroit hockey, baseball and basketball legends). In the mid-1980s, I even named my cat ‘Woodstein.’
Once I moved to the nation’s Capital, I made a promise to myself: If I ever met either Woodward or Bernstein in person, I would walk right up to them and tell them how their work inspired me. In 1998, while working an event that then First Lady Hillary Clinton spoke at (for full disclosure, I worked in the Clinton Administration as a Senior Public Affairs officer at the U.S. Agency for International Development), I saw Bernstein about 50 feet away. He seemed to be walking out of the event.
Without a second thought, I yelled, “Carl!” To my surprise, he stopped. I then hurriedly walked over and introduced myself and told him how much of an inspiration he was to me. I knew about his supposed tough, hard as nails persona, however he was very affable, polite and seemingly humble that a late 30-something guy would run him down to thank him.
I’m not sure I’ll read his new book. I’m not a real big fan of biographies of current presidential candidates. But when the history of journalism, and frankly the history of the 20th Century of American politics is discussed, Carl Bernstein’s name, fame and work is, and always will be, more than a footnote.
