Issue date: Dec 26, 1999

In this article:
Brian Williams, volunteer firefighter. Who knew?

Why parenting is like TV news
"Hard work pays off," says MSNBC anchor Brian Williams, who balances family and a demanding job.

By Jeffrey Zaslow

It's after midnight at MSNBC's futuristic studio in Secaucus, N.J., and anchorman Brian Williams is recounting his crazy day. It began when he baked a cake, as always, for his daughter's birthday. "I got it frosted and realized I had none of that stuff to write her name. I still had to pick up the kids at school, hide the gifts because my daughter wanted a scavenger hunt, hide the clues. I got in the car and it was like that scene in GoodFellas, with the Rolling Stones playing in the background, only I wasn't delivering guns or cocaine. I was shvitz-ing like I needed gutters!"

On TV, Williams looks like a man who never sweats. It's a persona he has perfected via his nightly, hour-long cable newscast. But as the industry buzzes that he will someday replace NBC's Tom Brokaw, know this: As smooth as he appears on the air, he's also a man with frosting all over his hands.

Like ABC's Peter Jennings, Williams is impeccably dressed. Like CBS' Dan Rather, he's a reporter at heart. And like Brokaw, he's a student of history. But at age 40, Williams is 19 to 27 years younger than those anchors and brings to his job the sensibilities of an involved father with two young kids in troubling times. It shows in how he frames stories. The very day the Lewinsky scandal broke, Williams said, on air, "How do I tell my kids?"

"That became the question America discussed for a year, and Brian nailed it that first night," says Steve Capus, executive producer of Williams' newscast. The night after the Columbine massacre, Williams led his show with a heart-wrenching intro he'd written about "15 sets of parents who now have empty bedrooms in their homes."

Williams and his wife, Jane, have a daughter, 11, and a son, 8, and they're raising them unlike most American children. "They do not watch commercial television," Williams says. Newscasts like his are off-limits. "I don't want them learning about the world that way." He was disturbed, during the Gulf War, when his daughter noticed slick TV news specials. "She'd say, 'Mom, the war music is on!' "

Torn between parental responsibilities and a demanding job that requires a long commute from his Connecticut home, Williams hopes his children will see in his success the effort it took. Asked to come up with a headline for this article, he suggests: "Hard work pays off."

He got his first on-air job at KOAM-TV in Pittsburg, Kan. Bill Bengtson, the station's general manager, recalls that Williams "had everything: charisma, good looks, a good thinker. One day, the weather guy didn't show up. Brian did news, weather, sports. He moved from one end of the desk to the other." Williams later excelled at TV stations in Washington, Philadelphia and New York, arriving at the network in 1993.

At the end of this long night, Williams drives home, listening to the BBC by shortwave. "I'm getting Londoners' morning news," he says, almost giddily. "It's an extraordinary luxury."

He's bringing home two newspaper photos of young Kosovo refugees. "The kids are my kids' ages," he says, and his plan is to let the photos lead into a family discussion. "We're forever lecturing our kids about how fortunate we are."

Parenting is like TV news. "Hard work," he says, "pays off."

Former fireman: Before working in TV news, Williams was a volunteer firefighter in his hometown of Middletown, N.J., he visits today's crew in Middletown.

First brush with fame: Got his photo in the local paper for rescuing a puppy from a burning house.

Job satisfaction: Firefighting, he says, "is very pleasing, very simple. 'See fire. Put it out.' It's a great male occupation. A big forest fire, you don't have to ask for directions. Just follow the smoke."

Fears for the future of volunteer fire departments: In affluent suburbs, fewer people "are willing to put up with the hours, the smoke, the heat."