He was called the most trusted man in America. For a long time he was the most famous anchor on television, back when TV was how most people got their news. He had a stalwart reputation, which is rare among anchors (especially compared to the current batch).

I'm just trying to figure out why. What did he do to earn such trust? Watching the news reports coming in I'm learning. Sad that it has to come to this but am I correct in saying that the way he reported about the war in Vietnam had a lot to do with it?

He was the CBS news anchor when the transition from 15 min to 30 min nightly news occurred in the US (back when there were only three channels to watch), and he held his anchor chair for around two decades. Some of his reputation is due to being the product of the times (e.g. being the face of the most-watched news show during the growth of TV news to become the dominant news source in the country) and some of it was through conscious decisions he made to "tell it like it is." He was the first major news figure to tell the American population that the vietnam war was unwinnable. His distinctive, sonorous voice was also a big help.

Back then, people didn't know any better than to trust the scripted talking head coming-out of the magic box across from the bed. I've never understood why newsreaders have been afforded any gravitas. Cronkite was much more of a reporter and journalist than any current teleprompter reader, but his effect on the public was due to being one of two or three "all knowing" entities beamed into people's homes.

Part of the trust he earned was a technical advantage. America at this time did not have half a dozen news networks. There were only a handful of men delivering the news via this medium. CBS as a pioneer of the medium had an incredible amount of reach from a technical broadcasting perspective. More (powerful) transmitters reaching more homes. Better entertainment programming keeping channel dials on CBS. It's also important to remember that TV news was still a new concept in those days. TV itself was still an incredibly powerful medium to people. It certainly helps he was a top notch journalist and could rival the more mainstream print media.

I don't know. I was born way after he retired. But this is what I know of him from reputation alone.

WALTER CRONKITE'S "WE ARE MIRED IN STALEMATE" BROADCAST, FEBRUARY 27, 1968

Tonight, back in more familiar surroundings in New York, we'd like to sum up our findings in Vietnam, an analysis that must be speculative, personal, subjective. Who won and who lost in the great Tet offensive against the cities? I'm not sure. The Vietcong did not win by a knockout, but neither did we. The referees of history may make it a draw. Another standoff may be coming in the big battles expected south of the Demilitarized Zone. Khesanh could well fall, with a terrible loss in American lives, prestige and morale, and this is a tragedy of our stubbornness there; but the bastion no longer is a key to the rest of the northern regions, and it is doubtful that the American forces can be defeated across the breadth of the DMZ with any substantial loss of ground. Another standoff. On the political front, past performance gives no confidence that the Vietnamese government can cope with its problems, now compounded by the attack on the cities. It may not fall, it may hold on, but it probably won't show the dynamic qualities demanded of this young nation. Another standoff.

We have been too often disappointed by the optimism of the American leaders, both in Vietnam and Washington, to have faith any longer in the silver linings they find in the darkest clouds. They may be right, that Hanoi's winter-spring offensive has been forced by the Communist realization that they could not win the longer war of attrition, and that the Communists hope that any success in the offensive will improve their position for eventual negotiations. It would improve their position, and it would also require our realization, that we should have had all along, that any negotiations must be that -- negotiations, not the dictation of peace terms. For it seems now more certain than ever that the bloody experience of Vietnam is to end in a stalemate. This summer's almost certain standoff will either end in real give-and-take negotiations or terrible escalation; and for every means we have to escalate, the enemy can match us, and that applies to invasion of the North, the use of nuclear weapons, or the mere commitment of one hundred, or two hundred, or three hundred thousand more American troops to the battle. And with each escalation, the world comes closer to the brink of cosmic disaster.

To say that we are closer to victory today is to believe, in the face of the evidence, the optimists who have been wrong in the past. To suggest we are on the edge of defeat is to yield to unreasonable pessimism. To say that we are mired in stalemate seems the only realistic, yet unsatisfactory, conclusion. On the off chance that military and political analysts are right, in the next few months we must test the enemy's intentions, in case this is indeed his last big gasp before negotiations. But it is increasingly clear to this reporter that the only rational way out then will be to negotiate, not as victors, but as an honorable people who lived up to their pledge to defend democracy, and did the best they could.

This is Walter Cronkite. Good night.