His words didn't profess to be pendantic. His thoughts were soft-spoken, plain and they hit you like a sledge hammer between the eyes when strung together into paragraphs becoming pealing pearls of Kuralt wisdom. I comforted myself with the thought that if you're not going to cover the big stories, at least you can travel around the country in an old bus, and maybe get al feeling for the country that you might miss if you were forever covering important stuff. But I think maybe I did get a feeling for the country that I might have missed if I were forever covering only the big stories. The Lessons I learned from listening to Charles Kuralt that words can weild a might heartier than any sword.
Words can wound.
Sentences can sting. A good story, unwound well, is to die for. Journalism, by its nature probably, is crisis-ridden. And the country, by its nature, really is not. Now I don't mean, of course, that we in journalism should not tell the story of the drug arrests and the tuition rise and all the other bad news.