A Tribute to Andy Rooney by Jeff Fager

There were many things I admired about Andy Rooney. Having the chance to work with him through the years felt like a gift. With Andy, you always knew that when he said something, he truly meant it. There was no trace of fake charm in his voice, whether he was on television or away from the cameras. I believe that honesty was a major reason he became such an unforgettable figure in broadcast journalism.

Andy was the true contrarian. He was a one-of-a-kind American voice, much like Will Rogers and Mark Twain. He was plainspoken, honest, sharp, and often very funny.

A few years ago, we brought Andy on stage in New York for a Colgate University event in his honor. We had both gone to Colgate, and the event also helped launch a scholarship fund in his name.

People said kind things about him that night. Morley Safer, Lesley Stahl, and Andy’s son, Brian Rooney, all spoke. We teased him a little, too, and then we opened the floor for questions.

At that moment, a young, eager student stood up and asked Andy something. She said:

“You have had such a wonderful career, and you have done so well. What would you advise somebody to do if they want to get into the news business, to become a reporter?”

Andy answered:

“If you have to ask a question like that, you shouldn’t become a reporter.”

That was Andy Rooney. He just could not help himself. As Morley once said:

Underneath that gruff exterior was a prickly interior.

Andy did not know how to soften the truth. Whatever came out of him, in almost any situation, was the plain truth as he saw it. No polish. No spin. No careful packaging.

At times, I think it troubled him that he lacked restraint in those moments. It also showed when people came up to ask for an autograph, and he could be so blunt with them that it was hard to watch. He once said this in one of our favorite Andy pieces:

“One of the worst things about the job is how nice people are to me and how rotten I am to them in return.”

I was connected to two important parts of Andy’s life. One was the 60 Minutes and CBS News world. The other was Colgate.

He loved going back for reunions and spending time with his old Colgate friends. At reunion weekend, he did not want to be treated like a celebrity. He simply wanted to be another classmate. Andy enjoyed being famous, but that fame often clashed with something he seemed to value even more, being one of the guys.

I think that is part of why he became irritated when someone stopped him for an autograph or made a fuss over him. It did not fit the way he saw himself. It pulled attention toward him in a way he did not want.

Andy also loved being part of CBS News. He liked coming to work, walking through the halls, eating lunch in the cafeteria, and stopping by the newsroom just to talk. Each week, he would come to show me his piece. After that, he would usually head right to Morley’s office, where he would spend time with his friend.

In many ways, Andy was also the unofficial conscience of CBS. If something happened at the company that he believed was wrong, or if he felt it went against the best traditions of CBS News, he would say so.

That was true even when it meant challenging the owner of the company, which he did when he spoke out against Larry Tisch. That took real courage. Andy shared his views openly, even when it could have cost him his job.

That honesty was a large part of his power, both on television and as a friend. But Andy’s way did not always win people over, not even at CBS or 60 Minutes. Blunt honesty, simple truth, and straight talk are not always easy for people to accept. Andy knew that, but he did not change himself to make others more comfortable.

Many people will remember him mainly as a humorist, but he was much more than that. Andy was a true journalist. He had reached a rare place in his career. He had earned the right to sit in front of millions of Americans every Sunday night and say exactly what he believed.

For me, one of his most powerful comments was not funny at all. When the war against Iraq began, Andy was deeply troubled by the tough language coming out of Washington. As a World War II veteran, he was especially offended when the president said the Iraqis were about to face “shock and awe” from the bombing campaign. That Sunday evening, Andy said:

“We didn’t shock them, and we didn’t awe them in Baghdad. The phrase makes us look like foolish braggarts. The president ought to fire whoever wrote that for him.”

Mr. Rooney was old-fashioned in a modern world, and he was proud of it. He disliked obscenity of any kind because he respected language and believed it should be used well. He had no patience for flowery wording, spin, phoniness, greed, bragging, or anything that seemed to offend basic decency and honor. He also loved to question authority.

When all those parts of him came together in one piece, Andy could be brilliant. His timing could be perfect.

Those of us who knew him well were often asked what Andy was really like. Sometimes, I answered with this story.

I was with Andy at a large CBS party in South Beach, Florida, during the Super Bowl. He had his Maker’s Mark on the rocks. My friend Bruce Taub came over. I said, Andy, I want you to meet Bruce Taub. He is the CFO, the chief financial officer of the CBS television network. He is the person who signs your check every week and handles all that money at CBS.

Andy looked at him and, without missing a beat, said:

“WELL, NOBODY’S PERFECT,”

And that was all. Then he walked away. Bruce laughed because he had just seen the real Andy Rooney, the same Andy people knew from television.

Andy loved being Andy Rooney. He loved life, and he knew how to enjoy it. Working with him was fun, and he was a dear friend.

People often say that everyone can be replaced. With Andy, that is simply not true. Someday, someone may fill the job he had. But no one will ever replace Andy Rooney.

Originally published at https://vocal.media.