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steep gasoline taxes. To compensate, France promoted the excellent inter-city and trans-national rail system crowned by the high-speed TGV. Polls in France have shown overwhelming support for nuclear power, with people valuing reduced dependency on foreign oil, the jobs and prosperity created locally, plus of course, cleaner air. Even there, however, nuclear has its opponents, and in 1980 a Level 4 accident occurred in the Loire region which encouraged the opposition. Three-Mile Island was, I noted, a Level 5.

      By March, Expat Dispatch had become a weekly feature in the Gazette, with an occasional mid-week offering as well. The mail ran about two-thirds favorable, though the nuclear power series hit a nerve, with 78% against. I was even given the services of a part-time researcher, a doctoral student in journalism at Columbia. I had only to mention a need and within hours faxes arrived with more information than I could handle.

      INCREASINGLY I WAS DEALING DIRECT WITH TOM O’CONNOR. Fred had no problem with this, though it meant I wasn’t as available to him or Didier. On the other hand, my new stature seemed to annoy Harlan Kenny. He tried to keep close tabs on his foreign team though the nature of the beast made that impossible. Didier was cool about it – he knew having me in Paris was a plus for his bureau.

      One day in mid-March I received a call from Tom. Be in New York tomorrow was the message. Some CBS execs are coming over, that’s all he’d say. The deal to showcase the Gazette’s European reporting was coming to a head, I figured, but why did they want me there? Fresh off the Concorde, I arrived a half-hour early. Alan Mauro was there but no Fred, no Harlan, which was odd. I grabbed a cup of coffee and took a seat at Tom’s conference table.

      “Here’s what’s going on. We got wind 60 Minutes is doing a segment on the Vietnam Wall, the November dedication. I talked with Don Hewitt about you.”

      “Me?”

      “They’ll be using vets on camera, seems to me they ought to profile somebody in the public eye. You present yourself well and of course you earned your stripes big time...”

      Oh-oh, I thought, I see where this is headed.

      “Long story short, Don said they were already thinking along those lines and, get this, you were already on their short list! Said one of their correspondents brought you to his attention. Marty Keller. You probably know him.”

      “I spent time with him recently – your Ocean Ranger gig.”

      “I need to ask, are you okay with this? It’d be quite a departure.”

      “I guess... sure, count me in, it’ll be good experience.”

      “I don’t know where they are on it, but them coming over’s a good sign.”

      Francie stuck her head in. “Mr. O’Connor, your guests are in the Board Room.”

      We picked up our stuff and headed out. “Thought that’d impress them,” Tom said.

      “Remember I gave you that tour?” Alan asked, slapping me on the back. “The way you’re going, you’ll have a picture on that wall one of these days.”

      As we walked in three men were standing at the far wall examining the display. O’Connor went over to the man in the center, a bit shorter than the other two. I recognized Hewitt, one of television’s superstar innovators. “Good to see you, Don, thanks for coming over. You know Alan.”

      “Yes, always a pleasure,” Hewitt said, greeting him.

      “And this is Paul Bernard. Paul, Don Hewitt.”

      Roy Carlson, another producer was there, also Ed Feldman, a writer.

      “Shall we begin?” Tom asked.

      “If I can tear myself away from this,” Hewitt observed, nodding at the photos and memorabilia. “Quite the museum, even some of our luminaries.”

      “However you slice it we’re all in the same business.” Tom gestured toward the end of the table. “Don’s the man who invented the Stopwatch.”

      “And here I am still winding it, twelve years later,” Hewitt smiled.

      “I’ve briefed Paul on our conversation...”

      Hewitt held up his hand. “Let’s bypass the preliminaries. Paul, we’d like you to do the segment. I’ve read the material Tom sent and seen footage of your work, but I wanted to meet you personally. As far as we’re concerned it’s a go.”

      “That’s great,” I managed to blurt out.

      “One thing, though, I’d like to ask your current views on Vietnam. It may or may not come up but it would be helpful to know where you stand.”

      I took a deep breath and thought for a moment. “Where do I begin? The people who sold us the war lied. They hid important information. It was an abuse of power, of the people, of the Constitution.”

      “Strong words.”

      I nodded. “Having said that, I am proud of my service. I honor the guys I served with, especially the ones that didn’t make it back. I’d like to think we’ll never get dragged into another needless war but I have no illusions. That’s a big reason I’m in this business,” I nodded at Tom and Alan, “to help people see what’s happening before it’s too late.”

      “Thanks,” Hewitt nodded. “I can tell that wasn’t easy. I understand you gave up your deferment and volunteered for Vietnam. If you had it to do over, would you do it again?”

      “Yes.”

      “Remarkable. Tom, our people can iron out the details, no need to take everybody’s time here. I’ve assigned Roy and Ed here to develop a scenario and a script. They’ll need pictures too. Paul, if you can dig up some material from your early days, from Vietnam. We’ll want to go into your injury and the recovery process too, I assume you’re okay with that. Your time at the Gazette, what you’re doing in Europe, what’s ahead. We’ll get it all down on film, nothing live except our in-studio commentator. Stan Plavin has spoken for it so you and he’ll spend time together at the appropriate point.”

      When the CBS people left we spent a few minutes around the table. Tom was effusive. “That was excellent! And Don told me on the q.t. they’ve decided to go ahead with our co-op deal.”

      “What’ll that involve?” I asked.

      “When they need more depth to a story they’ll ask us to pull it together, on a selective basis, that is, then involve one of our people on-air. We’ll suggest topics too. I see it oriented toward features more than breaking news, though I don’t rule that out. We’ll use Ted Cartright in London, Spazienza in Rome, yourself, a couple of others. You’re ready, and Ted was with BBC before he joined us. The others’ll need work.” He rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be great for us. We’ve got to find ways to use television to our advantage. If we don’t it’s going to eat even more of our lunch.”

      On the flight back, what was happening began to sink in. Fact is, though, I had no idea what I was getting into. A glass of champagne and the view from fifty-six thousand feet calmed my butterflies and set my mind loose. They want old pictures, do they... luckily I brought most of my memorabilia with me. At one point I thought of Rudolph Latimer and started laughing. Wait until he finds out about this!

      I’d never seen Diane so impressed, not even by the Pulitzer. “This’ll put your career in orbit,” she gushed.

      “Yeah. Let’s hope it’s around the right planet.”

      A COUPLE OF SATURDAYS LATER we joined Pat, Michel and Lucie for Saturday brunch. I was nervous about inviting Diane – I never knew which Diane’s going to show up – but she was in fine form, funny, friendly. Lucie filled us in about the exhibition. The dispute had been resolved in her favor, though her relationship with her adversary was in tatters. “It became rather ugly before le directeur finally made his decision.”

      “As a woman

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