I was disappointed to hear that Peter Jennings had died. When my sister and I were growing up, Peter Jennings was always there in our living room. It didn't matter if we were home or not at 5:30 pm when his show aired on Channel 3 in Pensacola, Florida. Even in the eighties, my dad used his clunky large VCR in a way that would rival TIVO even now. With the autorecord function and VHS tapes, Peter Jennings was available at any hour of the evening in our home to report the daily world news. Consequently, he became a part of our daily routine. Almost every evening, the opening theme song of "World News Tonight" would be played, and the voice of Peter Jennings would follow, wafting through the air of our home, just as the smells of our mom's cooking had earlier in the evening.

I was sad to hear that Peter Jennings had died, but I think I was more disappointed -- disappointed that Peter Jennings was as mortal as the rest of humankind. When I was growing up, he never seemed to age. And he had a type of god-like quality to him, in that he always seemed to know exactly where I was to look directly at me. I remember my sister and I trying to hide behind the sofa in an effort to evade his persistent gaze at us. But always, just as soon as I peeked around the soft yellow fabric of the sofa, he caught me in a glance and continued to look and speak directly at me.

Now, of course, having watched the memorial specials on TV since his death, I realize that he had indeed visibly aged, from the time the Challenger exploded, to the time when he announced with his uncharacteristically raspy voice, that he had lung cancer. And of course, his omnipresent manner of staring right at me was merely a function of him looking directly at the camera lens.

In effect, I probably knew all of that growing up, that he didn't really have superpowers. Nevertheless, Peter Jennings was special to me.

When I was away at college and medical school in Miami and too busy for any regular TV schedule, there was nothing like hearing the voice of Peter Jennings on "World News Tonight" to make me feel safe and comforted, as if I was back at home in our living room, with Dad asleep on the couch, waiting for dinner. Peter Jennings gave us a sense of routine--it was a weekday if he was on, a Friday if he was introducing the Person of the Week, and a weekend if we didn't see him on TV.

Whenever I found myself in someone else's living room, and some other news program was on TV, with some other news reporter, I always felt deep down that I was somehow getting the inferior news. I have no intention of offending the other newsreporters and respect their work, but it was almost like having a strong preference for Coke,and having to drink Pepsi. The loyalty could not he helped-- it was established deep in the roots of childhood.

I stopped watching Peter Jennings regularly long before he died. Busy schedules and lack of Tivo like equipment or ability kept me from doing so. Even so, several months ago, I did hear that Peter Jennings had lung cancer. I also heard that he planned to be back on the air after treatment. That optimistic announcement kept me from feeling sad, and brought a sense of stability and of safety, sort of like the feeling that there is always a home you can go back to, where there is routine and predictability.

Maybe that is why I felt disapointment along with my sadness when I heard Peter Jennings had died this week.I believed him when he said that he would be back, because he was the Peter Jennings who was always there in my living room, always speaking directly to me.