The revelation that the FBI had destroyed its records on Cronkite in 2007 came in response to Freedom of Information Act requests sent in after his death in July (everybody FOIAs the FBI files of public figures after they die, because dead people don't have privacy rights and the FBI must turn them over). The bureau routinely destroys files, but it's supposed to hold on to records that may have historical value—and Walter Cronkite certainly qualifies as a historical figure.

We filed a FOIA request to find out everything we could about the destroyed file—and got denied. But then USA Today piped up with a story on Cronkite's disappearing paper trail, and lo and behold, the bureau reconsidered and we got a packet in the mail with some pages (embedded below) indicating both the date of the file—it was opened in January 1974—and its number in the FBI's filing system. From that number—9-57023—we can deduce that it was an extortion investigation, because the first number corresponds to the bureau's code system for classifying crimes. A "9" means "Extortion, Extortion — Racial Matters, [and] Extortion — Nuclear."

So there you have it! Cronkite's name came up in a 1974 extortion investigation, and the FBI destroyed the file. Was Cronkite himself the victim? We don't know, but it appears from a screen printout from a search of the FBI's filing system turned over by the bureau that Cronkite was one of three subjects of the file (the other two names are redacted).

Bill Carter, an FBI spokesman, says Cronkite's name merely came up in the missing file, that he wasn't the subject of it, and that it had no historical value. Not to get too much further into the weeds here than we already are, but Carter admits that he has no idea how he knows that—"That's my understanding from records management," he says, referring to the FBI's division for handling FOIA requests. The problem is, if there is information somewhere that confirms whether or not Cronkite was indeed the subject of the missing file, and how tangential or central he was to its contents, we should have it, since we FOIA'd those records and the FBI says it has turned over everything it found. So if Carter knows something we don't about that file—e.g., whether or not Cronkite was the subject—it means the bureau is holding out on us. All this would have been much simpler and less confusing if they had simply not destroyed the file.

We called CBS News and Cronkite's son Chip to see if anyone recalled an extortion attempt against Cronkite in the 1970s; a CBS News spokesman declined to comment, and Chip Cronkite didn't return a phone call.

The FBI's Carter also says the bureau has "at least two or three" other files on Cronkite that it is currently processing for release. That was news to us, since the bureau's Records Management Division told us back when we first got news of the file's destruction that it was the only thing they had on Cronkite. But a "search slip" released by the bureau to us seems to back Carter up, mentioning at least one other file in which Cronkite's name appeared. That file's number begins with 145, which is code for "Interstate Transportation of Obscene Matter." You can bet we'll be FOIAing that one.

UPDATE: Chip Cronkite did call us back to say he has no knowledge of any extortion plots, but looks forward to hearing about anything else we find, "obscene or otherwise."

This page appears to show the search results in the FBI's system for the destroyed file, indicating that it was created in January of 1974 and also involved two unnamed individuals.

This says 9-57023 was "DESTROYED" in October 2007.

This is the FBI's numerical code for different varieties of crimes—the number in the left-hand column begins each file number for investigations into the corresponding crime.

Raw Story reports that blogger Michael Petrelis filed a Freedom of Information Act request for Cronkite's file with the FBI, and got back a response that essentially said, "We destroyed a bunch of files a couple years back, and they may have been about Conkrite. We're not saying they were about Cronkite, but for some reason that we can't explain to you, we think they may have been about Cronkite, but anyway we threw them away, so thanks for asking."

As it happens, we filed the exact same request on the day Cronkite died—federal privacy laws don't extend to dead people, so the FBI is compelled under the FOIA to release its information on subjects after they pass away—and got the exact same response. We were puzzled—how many pages were destroyed? Why? What were they about—and called the FBI, which recommended that we file another FOIA looking for information about why the records were destroyed. We were told that, at the very least, there should be some record of the serial number on the destroyed file, which would indicate what sort of investigation generated the records—extortion, treason, etc. We just got back our response to that follow-up request yesterday, and guess what? No records. So we filed another FOIA request that just said, "Aw, come on guys!" Gotta love the FBI.

So what did the FBI destroy, and why? Raw Story asked Cronkite's friend Mark Ashford what he thought the files might have contained:

"He was routinely in the company of presidents and received clearance to enter secret places like a nuclear submarine," Ashford, who spoke at Cronkite's funeral, told Raw Story. "If there was anything on him, it probably said: 'He's a good guy and okay to have dinner with the president.' Walter was never fretting about the FBI following him around."

We're skeptical. The FBI routinely conducted surveillance on reporters during Cronkite's active years, and his influence made him a particularly tempting target for intelligence-gathering. We know that Richard Nixon directed the FBI to create a list of suspected homosexuals in the D.C. press corps, for instance, so it's not hard to imagine him ordering up information on the man credited with turning America against the Vietnam War. But it could have been anything: Cronkite may have received threatening letters, or been the victim of an extortion attempt, and called in the FBI for help. Or the bureau may have kept a file on its media coverage in which Cronkite was mentioned. The thing is, we'll never know.

As for why they were destroyed: The FBI can and does destroy basically anything it wants. There is a complicated document retention policy in place that has the nominal aim of keeping records of historical interest around long enough for some historian or reporter to find out about them, but it is ridiculously vague and allows for the bureau to cover its tracks at will. The Cronkite records were destroyed in 2007, at a time when everybody knew that the newsman was ailing—and therefore that they would soon be subject to FOIA requests. The fact that files about a man as influential and consequential to the history of the 20th century as Cronkite could be casually destroyed before they were even open to the public is scarcely believable, which is why we kind of suspect that their destruction wasn't so casual. Was there ugly information about his personal life uncovered through surveillance? Evidence of the FBI engaged in even more illegal shenanigans than we previously knew about? Like we said, we'll never know. Forget it, Jake. It's Chinatown.

Bill Clinton got a laugh with his story of Cronkite showing him a small kindness during the Lewinsky nightmare.

Nick Clooney, columnist and father to George, told the heartbreaking story of Cronkite's last dinner out, at Patsy's. The whole room rose as he left.

And then President Obama, one of the younger speakers, spoke of Cronkite as a representative of a more honest and reasonable media era

(Jack Shafer will not like the bit of Obama's tribute that repeated the "Most Trusted Man in America" canard.) (It remains to be seen what Shafer will think of Obama's amateur press criticism.)

Cronkite died last July at age 92.

The friendship between the two men spanned a length of time, 65 years, that exceeds many lifespans, so we can only imagine how difficult it must be say goodbye to someone whose been a presence in one's life for so long. Aided by the familiar setting sitting behind his old desk and with CBS' cameras rolling, Rooney handled saying goodbye publicly much better than he did at the memorial service. Then again, we have no idea how many takes it took him to get it right.

Couric, being a classy lady, doesn't mention the error-prone Times scribe by name, but we all know who she's talking about.

I had to smile albeit, a tad ruefully, and I think he would too when I saw The New York Times correcting a piece that had appeared following his death. The article contained not one, not two, but seven errors about his life and career.

She then goes on to recount a number of the errors. It's almost as if she's a woman scorned. Oh wait, didn't Stanley once say of Couric "at the first sound of her peremptory voice and clickety stiletto heels, people dart behind doors and douse the lights?" Oh yeah, she did! (PS—that article has a correction attached to it.)

Payback is a bitch, but Katie Couric is not, so she never makes it personal—especially considering, if this were a knife fight, Stanley would be lying on the ground bloody and defenseless. However, our Katie-poo does get in a few good zings.

So as we say goodbye to the Dean of TV news, let's all remember as journalists when we say "that's the way it is" - it really is.

In Stanley's case, we hope Couric is using the term "journalist" loosely.

Watch CBS Videos Online

[Pic: Getty]

The NYT ran one, smaller correction of this story immediately after it ran on Saturday, but they come back today with the smackdown:

An appraisal on Saturday about Walter Cronkite's career included a number of errors. In some copies, it misstated the date that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was killed and referred incorrectly to Mr. Cronkite's coverage of D-Day. Dr. King was killed on April 4, 1968, not April 30. Mr. Cronkite covered the D-Day landing from a warplane; he did not storm the beaches. In addition, Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon on July 20, 1969, not July 26. "The CBS Evening News" overtook "The Huntley-Brinkley Report" on NBC in the ratings during the 1967-68 television season, not after Chet Huntley retired in 1970. A communications satellite used to relay correspondents' reports from around the world was Telstar, not Telestar. Howard K. Smith was not one of the CBS correspondents Mr. Cronkite would turn to for reports from the field after he became anchor of "The CBS Evening News" in 1962; he left CBS before Mr. Cronkite was the anchor. Because of an editing error, the appraisal also misstated the name of the news agency for which Mr. Cronkite was Moscow bureau chief after World War II. At that time it was United Press, not United Press International. (Go to Article)

1. Since everybody knew Cronkite was on the way out, wouldn't Alessandra—or maybe an editor!—check this, in advance?

2. Maybe Alessandra is a closet Wikipedia fan, and that's why she makes so many mistakes? But then we checked and Wikipedia actually has the correct dates for those events, not the ones she used. Alessandra Stanley would actually benefit by checking her facts on Wikipedia.

[NYT]

You see, there is just so much media bias out there right now. It's sickening. Just sickening! NBC, ABC, CBS, MSNBC, CNN—they're all just a bunch of liberal hacks trying to indoctrinate the masses into their little cult of pansy-ass liberalism. How dare they besmirch the memory of Walter Cronkite (who was murdered by Dan Rather by the way) a deeply flawed man who was probably a communist, but was so desperate to appease Jesus that he refused let it show on the air. If only more of the media we like him and, of course, Fox News, because they will never tolerate any of this political bias crap, because Bill O'Reilly and Bernard Goldberg said so.

"Fair and Balanced," always and forever. Never forget, folks. Never forget.

Interview Magazine, which has been mired in managerial chaos for months now (at minimum), is going through a management shakeup:

Brant Publications named Evanly Schindler, founder of the magazine BlackBook, president, and promoted Stephen Mooallem, an editor at Interview for six years, to editor in chief. Also, Karl Templer, who left the magazine this year, is returning to his former post, creative director.

Mr. Mooallem and Mr. Templer will report to Fabien Baron, the editorial director who recently returned to Interview, which had monthly circulation last year of 223,000. Mr. Schindler said he would continue as an owner and editor in chief of Tar, a twice-yearly arts magazine.

We'll know in a year or so whether this will do one god damn thing to help the magazine's fortunes.

CBS News was planning to retire their little voiceover of the late Walter Cronkite introducing Katie Couric's nightly broadcast, but now they're like, ah, fuck it, we're keeping it after all. Of greater concern to CBS: Walter Cronkite was 4% of its total nightly news viewership.

A 21 year-old chef in Arizona totally scammed his local paper into writing a story about how he got a fancy culinary scholarship and became "the youngest sous chef at the posh Compass Restaurant on top of the Hyatt Regency in downtown Phoenix." Basically he just wanted some publicity and made the whole story up. Just goes to show how easy it is to scam the working press, if you really want to. Outrageous. I mean, sure, it can happen to us, but to the Ahwatukee Foothills News? Disgraceful.

Long-haired Fox Business host/ bar-sitter Cody Willard is exactly as interesting as you would expect when he goes out at night.

And the Times isn't happy about the three errors you made, either. Especially since today was Walter Cronkite Day, and you know, journalism's kinda fucked and all. Better pay fellas like him the res-pekt they deserve, yeah? Well, "peep" the correction, emphasis mine:

An earlier version of this article incorrectly referred to a news organization for which Walter Cronkite worked. At the time, it was called United Press, not United Press International. The earlier version also misstated the date of the first moon landing; it was July 20, 1969, not July 26. And it misspelled Telstar.

Wow. They even started a sentence with a conjunction, which is akin to being slapped with something silly, like a squeak toy. Anyway: Stanley-Watch has [sic] returnxed! Good to have you back for the first time, babes.

Cronkite's Signature: Approachable Authority [NYT]

Update: Oh, wow. NYTPicker points out three more errors-one about the broadcasting team Cronkite did-or didn't-work with, one about Cronkite's first words when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon-they actually just landed in the lunar module-and one about his ratings. They also corrected a spelling mistake in my headline. Error terror begets error! According to them, this brings her into a 10 error-year, slightly under the 50 error-year they'd predicted. Is there somewhere we can place a wager on this kind of thing?

Because Important People Deaths carry more weight than ol' lowercase regular people deaths, they can either elicit well-considered, clear-minded objectivity, or they can inspire transparent glibness, insipid tributes, and reactionary nonsense. Writing about Cronkite's death online is meta (man...), because his death apparently signifies the end of old-media (or something). Did his professional decedents and famous people respond accordingly? Well...

George Clooney wants to die. Clooney - who's old man was a newsman, and the inspiration to tell Edward Murrow's story in Good Night and Good Luck - doesn't want to exist in a world without Cronkite. Really.

"He was the most important voice in our lives for thirty years," the Oscar winner, who delved into the history of the CBS newsroom when he directed and costarred in Good Night and Good Luck, said in a statement Friday night. "And that voice made people reach for the stars. I hate the world without Walter Cronkite. "

Between this and his pet pig dying, it's been a shit year for him. You know who else is sad? Christina Applegate. Bet you weren't ready for this: ready for this:

Elsewhere, Shaq took a picture of himself with a sword, Perez Hilton appears to have not totally fucked something up, and John Mayer hit himself in the balls.

President Obama got right down to business:

"For decades, Walter Cronkite was the most trusted voice in America. His rich baritone reached millions of living rooms every night, and in an industry of icons, Walter set the standard by which all others have been judged. He was there through wars and riots, marches and milestones, calmly telling us what we needed to know. And through it all, he never lost the integrity he gained growing up in the heartland.

But Walter was always more than just an anchor. He was someone we could trust to guide us through the most important issues of the day; a voice of certainty in an uncertain world. He was family. He invited us to believe in him, and he never let us down. This country has lost an icon and a dear friend, and he will be truly missed."

As far as media personae go, let's start with former MSNBC anchor Dan Abrams (of course), only because David Carr is somewhere in Bogota eating Arepas and has nothing to Tweet about Cronkite so far.

Abrams, whose new media consulting business arm media website ranks media personae against each other when they're not trying to kick sand at other outlets or mourning the breakup of gay penguins. Well, for one thing, poor Cronkite wasn't even awesome enough to make the list of 214 TV/News anchors in the first place. Sad. Abrams' website more than made up for it, though, with six different posts on the matter, each one more Google-happy than the next. The King Shit, however, takes a shit on all the media coverage of Cronkite, including that of his own site's:

...every major journalist is now vying to be part of the Cronkite coverage (including, I suppose, this one). No question so many grew up watching Cronkite's masterful work over the years - from war zones to the White House. And those who knew him well have offered moving tributes to Cronkite the man. But showing one's respect for Walter Cronkite also means paying homage to what the Cronkite name has come to represent –a time when it would have been unthinkable to cover Michael Jackson's death day after day....Even in reporting on his death many journalists have violated one of Cronkite's basic tenets: report the news don't become it. How many times this weekend have we heard top journalists memorializing Cronkite with sentences beginning with the word I. "I met Cronkite in. . ." or "I remember seeing him. . ."...

Having reported on many of the most notorious trials of the past two decades (including that of Michael Jackson) I have no claim to Cronkiteian journalistic purity. The same applies, however, to some of my colleagues now attempting to tether themselves to Cronkite's legacy.

Nothing better than a little self-flagellation to relieve the symbolic pain of a symbolic death now, is there? Meanwhile, friend of this site Peter Feld - who's done a few political liveblogs, here - just went live with a column on Mediaite...about personal memories of Cronkite.

Tina Brown's Daily Beast went with only three articles, including a pretty solid video tribute.

Another self-proclaimed Media Expert, Jeff Jarvis, couldn't have hidden his glee any worse:

And while our boss was being letting the company strategy out of the bag, and our night editor was coming up with conspiracy theories, Sarah Palin didn't have anything to say about Cronkite, instead, going for some nonsense about there not being rain without rainbows.

There's no greater point about Cronkite to be made here so much as a point about the immediacy and speed with which we react to the death of someone we consider to be important, and the natural de-evolution of that importance by the moment. But you'll often be surprised by who takes expediency in these matters, and maybe that, too, is the salient point: an Important Death can often bring out the more surprising, unforeseeable reactions you wouldn't expect. Like the New York Times taking Cronkite from above the fold:

While Drudge keeps him up:

Then again, maybe Drudge just - like the rest of us - enjoys a famous dead person. So it goes.

Cronkite was an icon of the self-consciously dignified style of journalism that dominated throughout his years in the anchor chair. It is, in a way, appropriate that his departure comes as the school of news delivery he represented — responsible, sonorous, self-important — is on its way out.

Cronkite has been rumored to be near death for a month now, after he fell "gravely ill." In late June, his family said he had cerebrovascular disease and was not expected to recover. CBS broke the news of Cronkite's death with a special report tonight.

Cronkite anchored the CBS Evening News from 1962 to 1981, ending each broadcast with his signature sign-off, "And that's the way it is." Following his consistently strong showing in viewer opinion polls, Cronkite became known as "the most trusted man in America."

Cronkite was perhaps best remembered for his reporting on the 1963 assassination of John F. Kennedy, which "helped pull together a nation stricken with grief and was a signal event in television's evolution into the national nervous system," in the words of Times columnist Tom Wicker.

Cronkite also helped turn the tide of public opinion against the Vietnam War when, at the close of a February 1968 broadcast focused on North Vietnam's Tet offensive, he concluded that America probably could not win the war:

It seems now more certain than ever that the bloody experience of Vietnam is to end in a stalemate.

Cronkite was eventually pushed out of the anchor chair in 1981 by Dan Rather, leading to a long-simmering grudge; when Rather himself was pushed out as CBS Evening News anchor in 2005, Cronkite said he should have been replaced years earlier. Rather "was perennially in third place," Cronkite said at the time.

Cronkite grew up in Missouri and Texas. He dropped out of college to pursue a career in journalism; he was discovered by Edward R. Murrow while working in radio and brought by Murrow to CBS.

Cronkite leaves behind a journalism school in his name at Arizona State University, with which he became closely involved. He is survived by two daughters, a son and four grandsons.

We encourage you to post remembrances, video or otherwise, in the comments below.

Elsewhere:

• CBS News has a video obituary and several photo essays
• Full New York Times obituary
• TVNewser collected statements from CBS journalists about Cronkite's death

Maybe her tweeting of a Walter Cronkite quote is all part of her elaborate plan to get back at the media by murdering one of their icons, as she's surely aware that Cronkite's brain would explode if he were to learn he was being quoted by Sarah Freaking Palin on Twitter. But wait, there's more!

No, your eyes are not deceiving you. Sarah Palin actually quoted Plato on Twitter.

Meanwhile, Alaskan cock-gansta Levi Johnston has exposed the reason Palin quit her job so abruptly. Money!

Johnston says he lived with the Palin family from early December to the second week in January. He claims he heard the governor several times say how nice it would be to take advantage of the lucrative deals that were being offered, including a reality show and a book.

I think the big deal was the book. That was millions of dollars," said Johnston, who has had a strained relationship with the family but now says things have improved.

Naturally, this provoked a fabulously bitchy quote from Palin's deranged mouthpiece Meghan Stapleton.

"It is interesting to learn Levi is working on a piece of fiction while honing his acting skills."

And the world spins madly on.

Presenting your Saturday morning gossip roundup.

• Farrah Fawcett's son with Ryan O'Neal, Redmond O'Neal, will be able to attend his mother's funeral. He's been serving time since April 5th for a violation of his previous probation by possessing heroin. He'll be allowed to be in a suit, but will have to remain in hand and leg cuffs. He was in prison when he found out about his mother's death; they had previously let him out to visit her on May 15th. Can we have a collective "Really?" please?
  
  
• Walter Cronkite is sick, and he's not recuperating, says his family. I somehow don't think they're trying to work their way into the news cycle on this one. [E!]
  
  
• Universal execs definitely cut the La Toya Jackson scene from Bruno at screenings that have popped up since Michael Jackson's death. The scene is Bruno, trying to steal Michael Jackson's phone number from La Toya's BlackBerry. I'm sure it was actually pretty funny at one point, and I'm sure Universal execs are just counting down the days until it's funny, again. [Page Six]
  
  
• Kendra Wilkinson, former playmate/Hugh Hefner chew toy, is nervous about her wedding. A joke about "a joke about the difficulty in having to read one's own vows" would go here if I could think of anything else, but I can't, so: we hear the tender nerves she's sporting comes from an apprehension about reading her own vows. Better? [People]
  
  
• Johnny Depp still doesn't watch his own movies. "Once my job is done on the film, it's really none of my business." Letterman's audience yuks it up, but Depp is being totally sincere. It's kind of Twilight Zone-ish. I got this clip from HuffPo, but I'd rather just link you to the YouTube page, m'kay? [YouTube]
  
  
• The Real Housewives Of New Jersey are coming back for a second season after supposedly holding up the renewal over their paychecks. I don't know if this is what you'd call "burying the lede" or not, but either way, whether its in this toxic wasteland of a gossip roundup or the toxic wasteland across the Hudson, something, somewhere has certainly been buried. Possibly the body of a guy named Little Ricky Sluttyfingers. Or possibly our dignity as a species. [NYDN]
  
  
• Speaking of your favorite Bravolebrities and people who are making America scarier now that we no longer have Dick Cheney in power to do that for us, the Millionaire Matchmaker, Patty "Please Be A" Stanger can't pay her publicist bills. Her new publicist was like, yeah, no, it's not a problem, but I know that whenever I didn't pay the bills on my Columbia House account, I just went straight to BMG, which, I think, is what she did, except she didn't get 18 free CDs plus one for a penny and I did. Related: one of the songs off of one of those CDs was this one. Moneygrubbers everywhere, of all genders, are sad. [Page Six]
  
  
• Faith Hill and Tim McGraw went to go see the Titanic exhibit and waited in line with their kids like everyone else. They didn't want to take photos, but they were very nice to people. And somehow, this is news. Meanwhile, flower-bearing British children everywhere still live in fear of being blasted by the smoldering disdain of Amerikkan celebrities. [Page Six]
  
  
• And even more Bravo bullshit! When will it end? (Answer: never.) Kelly Bensimon took OK on a tour of her closet, which has lots of pictures of herself in it. She also gave them this prime quote about her jewelry line, which, really, is easily the stupidest appropriation of Native American culture I've ever read, anywhere: "I took Pocahontas out of the kayak because she was bored, and I put her in the disco so she could have a little fun." A single tear just fell down my face. [NYDN]
  
  
• Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Anniston are just friends, you goddamn frogs, says Bradley Cooper, says Bradley Cooper at a French press conference. No, he doesn't actually say that, but he did say "we're just friends" in French, which is neat. Celebrities: they can make you feel insecure about speaking more languages than you, too! [People]
  
  
• Hayden Panettiere won't rule out doing nudity on film, and I won't rule out ever seeing anything she's ever been in, yet. Eh? No, I know: I kind of already have. [E!]
  
  
• You wanna talk about burying the lede? Here we go: Coolio pleaded guilty to coke possession. Also, I just got enraged over the spell-checker on this computer questioning the word "Coolio." YES IT IS SPELLED CORRECTLY IDIOT COMPUTER. Anyway, he'll be taking a fantastic voyage through an 18-month drug rehabilitation program, after which he can finally roll with his homies, again. [Reuters]

The 92 year-old Cronkite, whose signature sign-off, "And that's the way it is," rang through the living rooms of millions of American homes on a nightly basis from 1962 to 1981, grew up in Missouri and Texas before dropping out of college to take a job covering sports at a newspaper. He went on to work in radio and was eventually discovered by Edward R. Murrow, who brought him on at CBS.

Perhaps Cronkite's most memorable moment at CBS was his on-air reporting of the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963, a moment that perfectly encapsulated the unshakable gravitas that is sure to be his lasting legacy for years to come.

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

Walter Cronkite Gravely Ill [TVNewser]

I am convinced there's something tragic happening in the news media. It goes beyond legitimate differences of taste and form. At an unprecedented rate, hard news, good news, and non-sexualized news are disappearing. ... If Walter Cronkite had witnessed Katie Couric's debut as anchor of the CBS evening news (maybe he did), I am confident he would have been traumatized to see precious news time wasted on "exclusive" photographs of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' newborn baby.

People have noticed that I am not doing commentary on just religious issues. I guess you could say that my job is to give special commentary on ordinary news.

Do You Want to Change the News Media? [Fox News]