Looking back at Alistair Cooke's "Letters from America"

by Nomad

A Letter from Home

Many many years ago, when I first came to Turkey, I lived in a small and very conservative town. Those first two years were not easy ones and I often felt as isolated and lonely as a space explorer. I was very likely not only the sole American in town, but the only foreigner.

Even though I never mentioned it to my kind hosts, I often craved the sound of a speaker without a Turkish accent. I had to travel two hours by train to Istanbul just to purchase an English book or a cassette of American music. Letters from my parent took two weeks - or more- to arrive.
As far as official news from home, a civil war could have broken out in the states and I would have been none the wiser.

This was, of course, back before the immediacy of the Internet or Netflix. Before you could push a key on your telephone and send a message or video snippet to a grandmother the other side of the planet. 

One of my treasured lifelines to my home country was not the Voice of America but the BBC World Service,  which back then came to me via shortwave. On Sunday afternoons, I would cozy up to my radio and listen to British foreign correspondent Alistair Cooke's weekly broadcast "Letter from America."

With his soothing grandfatherly voice, Cooke explained and observed a wide range of cultural and political topics. He was, in a true sense, a journalist, as accurate as he was impartial. One never felt he had an ax to grind or an agenda to push and this made him my respected source of the news back home.

As one critic notes:

Alistair Cooke was the epitome of the civilized man. His English voice, redolent with informed nonchalance, enchanted millions who heard his Letter from America over BBC radio. His observations of American life were cool, witty, empathetic and insightful.

He has been called "the American Oracle."

Eventually, I moved out of that dusty/muddy town and, in more hospitable cities, I developed my social circle of foreign friends. I crept back into civilization.
About that time, technology made incredible strides and in an astonishingly short period, I plugged myself into the world wide web.
Things haven't been the same since.

Meanwhile, Cooke continued broadcasting long after I had forgotten all about him. After a run of almost sixty years, Cooke turned off his microphone in February 2004 and passed away a month later, at the age of 94.

Time Capsules

The other day I remembered Cooke's broadcasts and began, out of curiosity, to search online for this long-forgotten friend.  To my surprise, I discovered that many- but not all - of his broadcasts had been archived.
And what a find it was.

These broadcasts are not just like short time capsules. They also offer a kind of reference for and reflection of our own times. When I shared the links with Kathleen, she said it was like entering into a parallel universe. That's right. I have literally spent hours listening to broadcasts from times I lived through and from times before I was born. 

I have selected three broadcasts for your sample. The first one captures a moment of national tragedy- when Bobby Kennedy was murdered on the night of his California primary victory. By coincidence, Cooke happened to be at the scene as a witness to the crime and provides us with a vivid account.

Bobby Kennedy's assassination, 1968

The remaining two seem particularly relevant at the moment in our nation's history. They deal with Nixon's 1974 resignation and what led up to it.
Even though I recall watching the Watergate hearings as a teenager, I had forgotten so many important details.

Nixon's resignation, 1974

Nixon's Resignation Speech- August 1974.

Sometimes, when current events seem far too dark and disturbing, it is helpful to look back. It allows us to reassure ourselves by saying under our breath:

"We passed through that stormy sea, and still our ship did not go under. We survived that and we will survive this too."

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