Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, March 27, 1994 TAG: 9403260022
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 2 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By FRAZIER MOORE ASSOCIATED PRESS
DATELINE: WASHINGTON LENGTH: Medium
It is upon that much-trod turf, of course, that correspondents who chase the president pause long enough to do their so-called ``standup'' shots. But since moving to ``PrimeTime Live'' five years ago, Donaldson, though still running, has also had to learn to walk.
``When I was doing hard news, I don't recall walking in my standup more than three or four times,'' says the veteran ABC newsman. ``Now, I have to walk while I do my 15-second intro for a report. I don't do it well. But I've had to learn how. Because that's a rule of the magazine shows.''
Rule: When you're chasing a story, don't ever look like you're standing still.
Donaldson knows he must think ``show biz'' along with ``news,'' must entertain his viewers as well as inform them on ``PrimeTime,'' where he has schooled himself in skills he knows co-anchor Diane Sawyer long ago mastered.
Rather than recount another page of the presidential saga every night on the evening news, he shapes each of his ``PrimeTime'' reports into a self-contained morality tale with beginning, middle and end.
Then he checks the ratings to make sure viewers tuned in (he needn't worry: ``PrimeTime'' is ranked a healthy 20th for the season to date).
And through it all, he upholds ``PrimeTime's'' duty to give the public what it's interested in seeing.
``I get a few anguished letters, `How dare you put on this silly Tonya Harding story, that's not important when people are dying in Bosnia.'
`` `RIGHT! But let me just tell you something, my friend. I am not king of information when it comes to deciding what's good for the American people to watch.'
``The press is there to come along, NOT drive,'' he says. ``It's a tail that gets wagged by the big dog of events.''
Granted, maybe he's had to re-learn a few things. But on ``PrimeTime'' (Wednesdays at 10 p.m.) and the Sunday morning ``This Week With David Brinkley,'' Donaldson always puts on a show.
And always has.
How could it be otherwise? That voice, erupting in fanfares like a marching band. And that face, frozen in an almost Kabuki-like mask, curiously at odds with his souped-up temperament.
His co-workers take turns telling a reporter what an engaging, collegial, loyal fellow he is. But Donaldson operates under no illusion that his chummy side ever translates to the TV screen.
``Show him to me!'' he trumpets, at the suggestion that a viewer might find him lovable.
Indeed, he thrives as a continuing rebuke to the notion that TV correspondents must be comfortable to watch. He has the peculiar ability to rattle his audience along with those he covers.
It is noon a couple of Sundays ago, and Donaldson has done his best to rattle Lloyd Cutler. The just-named White House counsel was one of the guests on ``This Week,'' which has signed off a few minutes earlier. Donaldson's self-described contribution to the panel: ``a little kerosene on the fire.''
In his office in ABC's Washington bureau, balloons and a huge handmade greeting card remain from a surprise birthday party two days earlier. Now, the 60-year-old excitable boy is anxiously waiting for the phone to ring.
``He is ripping off taxpayers,'' says Donaldson, speaking of someone whose home a ``PrimeTime'' producer at that moment is staking out. ``He declined our kind interview requests repeatedly, so we're going to have to go interview him in some public place.''
Maybe this malfeasant walks his dog, maybe he plays golf at a public course - Donaldson is ready to pounce should the quarry show his face. But when the phone finally rings, the message is that two days' worth of newspapers remain unclaimed in the man's front yard. Donaldson tells his producer to knock off the vigil until tomorrow.
``But if she had gotten a glimpse of him, I would have been out that door,'' Donaldson says in a way that makes clear it's just a matter of time.
by CNB