I work in television.

I have done so for about 34 years now. I have seen my share of events, through the glass of picture tubes–and in more recent years, that of flat electronic screens. I had been working for a few weeks in 1974, when I witnessed my first remarkable event while working in television.

The 37th President of the United States, Richard M. Nixon resigned the presidency in the wake of the Watergate scandal. The Vice-President, Gerald Ford, became the 38th chief executive of the nation. It was a moment that stopped nearly everyone working in the relatively new offices of a nascent cable television company in North Charleston, SC.

Except for those of us who working in the brand new studio center that was so new–there was still equipment in boxes waiting to be installed. For us, the focus was not on the event, but rather recording the pictures onto brand new Sony 3/4-inch VCR tape machines that were so state of the art for the time. There were levels to be checked, signals to be routed, and learning of a new system to make television to be done. Even though history was unfolding before my eyes, I couldn’t see it because I was working.

In television.

Watching news reports later at home, I was finally able to witness the history that unfolded. I heard the new President, Mr. Ford, declare “Our long national nightmare is over.” And Walter Cronkite proceeded to describe the days events as unprecedented as any in American history.

A reminder to the reader that this was when there was only three national commercial broadcast networks, ABC, CBS and NBC–plus PBS. There was no CNN, no cable news of any kind. The first cable networks were still a year away, when HBO would become the first national cable programming to be distributed by satellite.

Fast forward ahead some 34 years and a few months to November 4, 2008.

Again, history unfolds before my eyes as the United States of America elects Barack Obama as its’ 44th President. And much like the transition of power I witnessed on a television screen all those years earlier–I was working and more concerned with how the coverage of the event was being integrated with the coverage of the local elections from the newsroom I lead here in Connecticut.

It wouldn’t be until hours later, when I had dragged my tired self home, that I was able to truly witness the historic moment–by now being replayed endlessly over more channels than I could possibly count. As well as on the screen of my laptop computer, which of course didn’t exist even as a concept back in 1974.

I have to admit that I miss Walter Cronkite’s voice in a time like this. As much as I miss those of John Chancellor, Frank Reynolds, Peter Jennings and perhaps most of all on an election night, the inimitable Tim Russert. This is not to suggest that those who have come since are not excellent journalists in their own right, but they are new voices in a new era. Their words are still being shaped and defined, in terms of the gravity they will carry.

I think I miss Cronkite’s voice most of all, because it gave the words he spoke a sense of history that was truly palpable. And watching the history being made on this November night by the election of our nation’s first African-American President, I so wanted to hear that one voice define the moment by speaking the words to describe the pictures on the screen before me in my living room.

But even without those words, it occurred to me as I was watching the remarkable images come through the screen, that I was experiencing another moment that triggered the same feeling that I had over three decades earlier. The same feeling that I have had on a few occasions since.

I love watching history–chapters both big and small–being recorded every day.

I work in television. I love the work.

(Thanks to my colleague Geoff Fox for the header picture of my friend Jeff Winn in the big chair as director of “Nightline” at ABC in New York.)