John Slattery, a Remembrance

His red hair, easy smile, boyish face and Emmy award-winning reporting were nearly as familiar to New Yorkers as the profile of the Empire State Building. It is no exaggeration to say John Slattery saw everyone as important to him: his viewers, his admiring professional colleagues, his friends and anyone with whom he came in contact in his work or in his off-camera moments. John was blessed with a lightning-quick dry Irish wit, tempered by a deep well of genuine humility. An appealing sense self-deprecation was his dependable companion.

John’s writing and his journalistic skills were enviable. His stories spoke truth to power with steadfast fearlessness over the decades. He brooked no nonsense from officialdom, minor or exalted. His was a continuing beacon of accuracy in the presence of engineered distortion. His work was marked by a stubborn, energetic and skilled pursuit of the story in the face of not infrequent institutional obstinacy. 

John never lost the sensitive internal fire and the compelling vigor of a great reporter. In fact, he died of a heart attack just hours after filing what would be his final story: an attack on a 72-year-old Good Samaritan who went to the aid of a mugging victim. As a deeply religious man, John was often himself the quiet Samaritan, but went to great pains as a reporter not to wear that on his sleeve. 
  
John’s sudden death stunned the news business in the New York marketplace. He was an able, deeply respected SAG-AFTRA shop steward for 15 years at Channel 2 WCBS-TV and a guardian, father-figure and mentor to many a younger staff member. The depth of the sorrow was palpable in on-air tributes of shock and disbelief — tender stories of John told with choking voices and tears of grief and, yes, more than a few laughs. At a Westchester funeral home, news professionals and personal friends waited in long lines for hours to say goodbye and blinked in wonder at their own startling numbers.

Though John was phenomenally talented at his work and beloved by his colleagues, he reserved his deepest affection and love for family: his wife Suzie, his daughters Kathleen and Meghan and their families, and his son Patrick. In a light moment to a church packed to overflowing, during a moving eulogy to his late father, Patrick declared, “My dad would have been blown away by the amount of kindness, support and love everyone has shown.” With a signature touch of his father’s humor, Patrick added, “He would have said, ‘It must have been a slow news day.’”
 

This article was originally featured in the December 2014 local e-newsletter.