Welcome to the World, Baby Girl!

The Last Day

New York City

1976

Howard Kingsley was becoming more and more agitated as the weeks went by. He was getting tired of having to deal with the latest news director, Gordon, an aggressive thirty-five-year-old bastard who had no respect for Howard and could not wait to get rid of him. Gordon wanted someone he could control. At first he was careful not to upset Howard, but as soon as the ratings started to slip slightly, he began to make Howard’s life miserable. Film pieces were switched, TelePrompTers started breaking down, on-air signals were late being called from the control booth, all calculated to make Howard look bad, and they did. But upstairs had a problem. They, too, were anxious to have News go in a new direction, to update it; still, Howard was the grand old man of broadcasting and they could not fire him outright. They did hope to maybe hasten his retirement a bit and seemed not to notice what was happening to Howard on the set. Even if it was at the expense of a few points in the ratings, they first needed something to justify getting him off the air. Yet Howard was stubborn and he hung in there, and fought as long as he could—until he had a little scare with his heart.

As it turned out the problem was said not to be serious, but it was serious enough for his wife and daughter to beg him to quit before it was too late. He hated to do it but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. And so, one Monday morning, Howard went upstairs to the president’s office. Ned Thomson III got up from his chair to meet him at the door.

“Howard, why didn’t you call me? I could have come downstairs, for God’s sake. How are you? Come sit down.”

Howard said, “I’m fine, absolutely fine.”

“Can I get you coffee, tea?”

Howard sat in the visitor’s chair. “No, thanks. I just want to say that I have made the decision to retire and I wanted to let you know, give you a couple of months to get everything in place.”

Thomson looked shocked. “My God, Howard … are you sure? I mean, this is so sudden. Are you sure—is there anything we can do to change your mind?”

“No, not a thing.”

“I don’t know; this is quite a blow. I mean, you’ve been the backbone of this network, hell, you are this network. Isn’t there something we can do?”

“Yes, there is. I want you to keep this as quiet as possible. I want you to promise me there will be no tributes, no awards, none of that. I want to leave with as little fanfare as possible. Will you do that for me?”

“Of course. Any way you want it handled. We’ll respect however you want to do it, you know that.”

Howard stood up. “Good.”

“Now, when you say a couple of months, do you mean … two, three? How long do we have?”

“Two.”

“I see. Well, after all these years—you were here before Dad, even—I still can’t believe it. But if this is what you want—”

“It is.” Howard spoke with certainty.

Thomson walked to the door and put his hand on Howard’s shoulder.

“All I can say is, it’s going to be hell trying to find a guy to replace you—hell, you can’t be replaced. You’re an institution. This is going to be tough.”

Howard turned to him. “Then why don’t you just get on the phone and tell that son of a bitch you hired to get rid of me that I’m out and his boy is in. That can’t be too tough, can it?”

Ned watched Howard walk past his secretary and down the hall. He buzzed the control booth. The news director picked up.

“Two months, Gordon. Call David … tell him to get ready. I’ll get publicity to start the ball rolling. He just walked in here and said he was retiring, whammo, just like that. Yeah, and listen: you might want to lay off of him. I think he smells a rat and we can’t afford to have him say anything. He still carries a lot of weight with the board. We want to get out with our noses clean, OK?”

Two months later, exactly, Howard finished his broadcast as he usually did, “And so ends another day.” But this night after the signoff, he continued. In the booth, the news director ordered camera three in for a close-up. Howard took his glasses off, looked into the camera, and said, “As some of you may know, tonight ends for me what has been as exciting and as rewarding a career as a man can have. I have been proud and humbled by the support and trust you have so graciously allowed me throughout the years and I only hope I have been worthy of the task. I wish you well and may God bless you all. Good night and good-bye.”

The camera pulled back as he put his glasses back on and gathered his papers off his desk as he had for so many years. Upstairs, in the booth, a crowd had gathered to watch. After the news went off the air, they all stood in silence. It was quiet downstairs on the floor as well. Howard stood up and removed his mike and quietly shook hands with a few cameramen and his makeup woman, who had come up to his desk. Then he walked over to the edge of the set, where his wife and daughter were waiting to take him home.