by Wendy Walker
When World News Tonight had finished airing in the evening, I would pick up my massive typewriter and carry it down to the editing booths to help with whatever else anyone needed. My job description at the time did not include editing, but I went to the edit floor every night anyway, partly to learn editing and partly to enjoy the catered dinner that was served at night, which encouraged everyone to keep working.
At that point in time, Katie and I were so broke, we shopped at Loehmann’s discount store and shared our outfits, wearing a different scarf and hoping no one would notice. At the end of a long day of work, our dinners were generally chicken pot pies or spaghetti because that was all we could afford. We were so poor, we would go to a restaurant in Georgetown, get a table, order coffee, and ask cute guys sitting near us if we could have a bite of whatever they ordered. Seriously! I have a hard time believing it, but we really did that because we were broke When we stayed late at ABC to help, however, they brought in roast beef, mashed potatoes, fresh veggies, and pies. Getting a free dinner back then was a big deal, and I made sure to take advantage of it while I also learned the art of producing a story on tape. Like a scene out of a movie, I would stuff my pockets with rolls and chicken to take home and put in our refrigerator.
Eight months after I began working at ABC, when I was just getting the hang of things, George Watson called me into his office and shut the door. “No one knows this yet,” he said quietly, “but I’m about to leave ABC as bureau chief.”
I was stunned. He was the last person I had thought would ever leave, but when he explained further, I was intrigued. “I’m taking a new job,” he said. “I’ll be helping Ted Turner start the Washington bureau for his new venture called Cable News Network. He wants to launch the first network that airs only the news for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week on cable. And I’d like you to come with me.”
This offer, which would eventually change my life for the better in countless ways, was a complete surprise. At first, I wondered, why me? Why didn’t George choose someone with more clout? I was a neophyte, a mere assistant to the deputy bureau chief. I was not someone with prime contacts back then, and I did not have an influential voice in the news business. But I always worked harder than anyone else, and I had proven that to George. Today, when I review the amount of sweat, hard work, and moving mountains it took to do this impossible thing with Ted Turner, I probably would have hired me, too, considering the fact that I worked harder than anyone else.
WORK HARDER THAN ANYONE ELSE
If your company is doing layoffs like so many are, they are going to lay off the people who don’t work hard and have bad attitudes. The people who work the hardest and don’t complain make their bosses’ lives easier, so they get to keep their jobs. Which one are you?
This really is a no-brainer. The harder you work and the better your attitude, the more people will notice you and the more indispensable you will become. It’s all about your work ethic.
Do you find ways to go above and beyond what is required of you, even if it takes a little longer?
Or are you tapping your foot, willing the hands of the clock to move faster so you can go home the instant your eight hours are officially up?
Here are some tips that will serve you well:
• Get in to the office earlier than your boss and stay after he or she leaves. I believe that when my boss, George Watson, saw that I was coming in to the office on Sundays, he felt secure that he could depend on me to do a job with more responsibility.
• Don’t complain. Complaining is contagious and it brings everyone down, including you. No one wants to work with a complainer, no matter how talented you are. When a complainer leaves my staff, I am relieved. Of course, you may need to vent about certain things, so call a friend and tell him or her how you feel. Then it’s back to work with a good attitude. It’s so much easier to get a job done if you are someone other people can get along with. When a better position becomes available, you will be passed over if you have the reputation of being difficult.
• Don’t drop the ball: Be a team player. If you are on a staff, every job will have some kind of overlap with the next job. You have to get along with other staff members and keep the ball rolling. If you are someone who does his or her part and you are working with someone who drops the ball, instead of complaining and blaming, pick it up. People will notice. Don’t waste your time being pissed off about the people who aren’t working as hard, just because you’re one of the people who does work hard.
• Offer your boss good suggestions without being asked. Be part of the solution. I expect my staff to present me with original ideas. I want people who are going to challenge me and be challenged. It’s a strong person who can say to their boss, “I heard what you suggested and I don’t think that’s the way to go. I would do this.”
If you have an idea about how to save money or improve on a product, speak up. It’s all in the attitude. I would avoid complaints and irritation such as, “This is all wrong. We need to make it right.” Nobody wants to listen to an employee who is irritable and grumpy. Instead, how about saying, “I’m curious. Wouldn’t it work better if we did it this way?” This is being part of the solution.
And then, after you have spoken your mind, it’s a strong person who can let it go if their boss does not agree, because he or she has the final word. Whether the boss followed your suggestion or not, you will be remembered as a creative thinker. Then, when that promotion comes up, who do you think will get it? Someone who did very little to speak of, or you, who came up with some revolutionary ideas? I think you know the answer.
Bosses feel a level of comfort when they have people on their staff on whom they know they can rely. These are the people who will get ahead because they work harder than anyone else, and they will get the job done right and on time. If you do these things, if your work ethic is beyond reproach, people will know. Believe me, one way or another, they always know.
CHAPTER 7
Mentor Yourself
When I first began my White House producing job for CNN in 1983, we had two desks in the White House basement press room, one for correspondent Dean Reynolds and the other for reporter Jim Miklaszewski (we called him Mik). I had no desk so I stood between them most of the time, happy just to be there. But I kept urging my bosses to ask the White House to assign us a glass booth with sliding doors and a small office inside, like the other networks. Maybe I would even have my own chair. The three large networks each had a booth and we needed one, too, but where would we put it?
I went on a search and discovered a small area in the basement of the press room. A kind of “crazy old lady” radio reporter was using that space to hoard old newspapers and magazines. I asked for the space and when the White House granted us permission to put our booth there, this woman was incredibly pissed off. She got so incensed, I had to take matters into my own hands and move her magazines and papers for her. It was the only way I could get it done.
And so, over Christmas that year, I spent most of my time overseeing the construction of our much-desired booth. When I look back, I wonder what in the hell I was thinking, spending my Christmas vacation at work in the basement of the White House. But back then, work was everything, and it was all trial and error since I had no one to show me what to do.
I would arrive at the White House in the morning about 7:30 or 8. I made coffee and got organized, made calls, checked the president’s schedule for the day, and then I’d go to the morning briefing with my tape recorder. If there was a major news story, I’d type up my notes and fax them to CNN on our clunky fax machine.
The other producers at ABC, CBS, and NBC had one evening news spot to do while Mik, Dean, and I had to find live shots to feed the news beast all day long. That’s why we needed to have a full-time producer stationed at the White House. I was like a short-order cook for CNN, leaving other people free to make calls and do the rest of their work.
I spent the entire day at the White H
ouse, acting as liaison between the administration and CNN. After the morning briefing, if the president was going somewhere, I might go, too. Then someone else from CNN would take my place at my desk. But I always stayed in contact with the main news desk. If the president was going out at night, we did what we called a “death watch,” making sure someone always represented CNN in case something happened, such as the Reagan assassination attempt. We refused to be left high and dry any longer, so someone always stayed on “death watch” until the president was back home again. It usually ended up being me because nobody else was willing to stand on a street corner, waiting. For me, it was all about learning as I went along.
In fact, I had only been there a few months when I found myself in a very embarrassing position. I was crossing the White House lawn on my way to the press room when I noticed a large crowd hovering around someone so small, you couldn’t see who it was. When crews and reporters surround someone who is newsworthy and shoot out random questions, we call it a gangbang for lack of a better term. And this was just that—a gangbang on the front lawn of the White House. My first one.
Toting my huge walkie-talkie, too large to fit into a pocket or even an oversize purse, I made my way through the group of burly cameramen to see Mother Teresa, three inches shy of five feet tall, in her blue-striped head covering, discussing the meeting she’d just had with President Reagan. I marveled at how such a tiny woman could make such a huge impact on the world, as she clutched a handful of prayer cards.
Each time she spoke to someone, she handed him or her a white-and-blue card, colors that matched her clothing, with a painting of Jesus on the front. Anyone who received a prayer card took it and said, “Thank you, Mother Teresa,” in reverent tones. When I got in close enough, she handed me a card, too, which I framed later as an offering from a living saint.
Card in hand and breathless, I stepped away from the circle and got on my walkie-talkie with a guy named Vito at the CNN assignment desk. “Vito,” I gasped much too loudly, barely able to contain my excitement, “there’s a gangbang with Mother Teresa on the front lawn.”
I cringed when I heard my own words resound. It was pretty obvious that when it came to Mother Teresa, “gangbang” was not the right thing to say. I still had a lot to learn. But how would I learn it when there was no one around to mentor me?
Although there was a lack of an official mentor in my life, there were some great characters in the newsroom who had been around the block, and I learned what I could from them. I think most everyone would agree that no one was more interesting, knowledgeable, and eccentric than Susan Zirinsky, who is currently executive producer of 48 Hours on CBS. She had such a powerful reputation and was such a colorful character, the blockbuster movie Broadcast News starring Holly Hunter, William Hurt, and Albert Brooks was based on this woman whom we all called Z. I learned a great deal from her, like making sure my reporters had three newspapers waiting for them in the mornings and getting the typed-up notes to them that explained where we were going that day and the various phone numbers they would need.
I learned it all from Z, and she and I were quite competitive, mainly because we were cut from the same cloth. That meant that above all else, we both wanted to get “the story.” She was already a big deal when I arrived at the White House, and I looked to her experience and her willingness to help, despite her edge of competitiveness. She had one up on me because when I was growing up, I had never engaged in sports in order to learn the art of healthy competition.
Z once said to me, “Wendy, if you want longevity in this business, you have to learn to cry.” That comment sparked a famous scene in Broadcast News where Holly Hunter’s character came in early to take a few minutes to sob loudly at her desk before the business of the day took over. I appreciated Z’s sentiment, but I already knew how to cry. I just had to make sure I did it at the right time and in the right place so I didn’t look like a wimp.
The thing is, we all have our own styles and Z’s style was exciting and explosive, perfect fodder for a Hollywood movie. When they were doing research for the film, costar and writer Albert Brooks asked me if he could come to a presidential event. He showed up in Santa Barbara to hear the president speak and the director of the film, James L. Brooks, asked me if he could come to my Washington apartment to see how a producer lived. I invited him to see my Georgetown apartment, which was in a mansion that was now divided into four separate homes. Mine included the front door, half of a living room, and a tiny bedroom. He walked around, asked me a ton of questions, and took notes, and I have to say, I loved the movie. I was honored that the director even wanted to see my apartment. And it was great to see a movie based on Z.
I still had so much more to learn when bureau chief George Watson called me into his office in 1980 to tell me he was leaving ABC to be bureau chief at Cable News Network, Ted Turner’s baby, and he wanted me to come with him. “Picking Bernie Shaw as the main anchor is easy,” he said, “but I don’t know the secretaries or the assistants here. I’d like you to be my assistant, and I need you to tell me whom we should hire from ABC. By the way, I know you want to be a producer, and at Cable News Network you can learn that by being hands-on, as opposed to staying here at ABC and watching everybody else do it. You’d eventually become a producer here at ABC, but it would take a lot longer.”
I was a little taken aback since I had no idea what this new position would require. Did I have the experience and wisdom to help George make the right choices? I didn’t know, but George’s argument was convincing enough for me to seriously consider the offer. I checked with several of my coworkers at ABC who all encouraged me to go for it. I turned to my friend, reporter and anchor Sam Donaldson, to get his opinion because George had approached him to come over to Ted’s new network. He declined the offer, which made sense, since ABC was treating him much too well for him to leave and join an upstart fledgling network. Still, Sam assured me that the door would remain open for me at ABC and I could come back after I’d gotten some producing experience.
After serious consideration, I went back to George and told him I was on board. “My roommate, Katie Couric,” I said, “wants to be a writer. I think she’ll come over with us. And I like Scott Willis, a really talented producer. He’s a director at ABC and I think he’d be a great guy for us.” I still recall my reluctance to leave ABC at that time, which was even tougher when I learned that Carl Bernstein, a reporter in his thirties, was taking over for George Watson as bureau chief.
The names Woodward and Bernstein were huge at the time (they still are), ever since the Watergate break-in and the revelation of the surreptitious whistle-blower whom these two reporters called Deep Throat. Little did I know at the time that more than twenty-five years later, I would be in charge of the very show that would get the only interview with the real Deep Throat, a man named Mark Felt.
Here is an excerpt from that rare interview that happened shortly before he died, on April 26, 2009:
KING: Were you surprised that it was a secret for so long?
FELT: Yes, I guess I was.
KING: Did you like being called Deep Throat?
FELT: Well, yes. In some ways, I do. I’m proud of everything Deep Throat did. Yes, I like being related to him.
KING: So you have no questions of yourself as to why you did it?
FELT: No. No.
KING: Because there were some who said that you were kind of like a traitor to the cause. There were a few—certainly on the Republican right side, who complained that you were turning the tide on your boss.
FELT: That sounds like the Republican approach.
KING: Why did you do it?
FELT: I don’t remember doing that. I mean, I tried to go along with whatever I thought was correct and 100 percent accurate, but if that happened to bring somebody in on the side, that was just the effects of the facts.
KING: Why did you decide to help Woodward? Why did you decide to do what you did?
FELT: Because he w
as doing a good job.
KING: No other reason?
FELT: No other reasons.
KING: Did you always trust Bob Woodward?
FELT: Pretty much so, yes. Pretty much.
KING: You never feared that he would reveal your name at a time that might have been…
FELT: I didn’t have that fear, no.
KING: Why did you come out?
FELT: Well, because with politics moving the way they did, I had no choice, really, but to come out and put everything on the line, both plus and minus on the line.
KING: Do you think you upset Mr. Woodward?
FELT: Well, maybe a little. A little, but I think he understood. When it was all laid out on the table in front of him, he understood.
KING: Because he always said, you know, they’d never reveal it until Deep Throat passed away. And obviously, you didn’t pass away.
FELT: No. I hope I haven’t.
As part of that interview, Larry spoke with both Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein:
BERNSTEIN: I certainly salute him [Mark Felt]… I think that he did a great thing under difficult circumstances and I wish at a time of another aberrant presidency we had more people with his values, as he expressed them during Watergate, today.
WOODWARD: There are a lot of people in the FBI who were critical of Mark Felt, and I think I’d just like to take a moment and talk to them because I’ve heard from a number of them. Go to the seat that Mark Felt had at the moment of Watergate. Hoover just died. Nixon was putting tremendous political pressure on the bureau. There was evidence of concealment and cover-up and criminality, all of the tentacles of Watergate.
