NEW YORK -- Edwin Newman, who brought literacy, wit and energy to NBC newscasts for more than three decades, and battled linguistic pretense and clutter in his best sellers "Strictly Speaking" and "A Civil Tongue," has died. He was 91.
NBC News did not immediately say Wednesday where or when Newman had died, or the cause of death.
At NBC from 1952 until his retirement in 1984, Newman did political reporting, foreign reporting, anchoring of news specials, "Meet the Press," "Today," "The Nightly News," midday news and a variety of radio spots. He announced the death of President Kennedy on radio and analyzed the Vietnam War.
He also narrated and helped write documentaries, back when they were an influential staple of network programming. They included "Who Shall Live?" -- a 1965 study of the difficulties of deciding which kidney disease should receive lifesaving dialysis -- and "Politics: The Outer Fringe," a 1966 look at extremism.
"I think I worked on more documentaries than anybody else in TV history," he once said.
Newman, with his rumpled, squinting delivery, impressed his audience not so much with how he looked as with the likelihood that what he'd say would be worth hearing. And his occasional witty turn of phrase might be accompanied by a mischievous smile. The New York Times wrote in 1966 that Newman "is one of broadcasting's rarities. ... NBC's instant renaissance man speaks with the distinctive growl of a rusted muffler. He makes no concessions to the charm boy school of commentator."
In his series "Speaking Freely," he had hourlong, uninterrupted conversations with notables in many fields.
"People had an opportunity to put forward ideas" he said in a 1988 Associated Press interview. "You could get people to come on who wouldn't normally have been on TV.
"NBC, and I mean this to its credit, never tried to sell a minute of commercials and never interfered with the choice of people. The producer and I chose them."
His contributions to the radio show "Emphasis" won him a 1966 Peabody Award; judges cited "his wit and depth of understanding, both conspicuous rarities to be cherished and honored."
He turned to writing books in the 1970s, taking on the linguistic excesses of Watergate, sports-casting, academics, bureaucrats and other assorted creators of gobbledygook with wit and indignation. Both "Strictly Speaking" and "A Civil Tongue" were best sellers.
Chapter titles of "A Civil Tongue" give an idea of his targets: "A Fatal Slaying of the Very Worst Kind," "A Real Super Player with Good Compassion," "Paradigm Lost" and "Myself Will Be Back After This Message."
"A civil tongue ... means to me a language that is not bogged down in jargon, not puffed up with false dignity, not studded with trick phrases that have lost their meaning," he wrote.
"It is direct, specific, concrete, vigorous, colorful, subtle and imaginative when it should be, and as lucid and eloquent as we are able to make it. It is something to revel in and enjoy."
For a time, he was also a theater reviewer for NBC's New York station, drawing upon all his skills to sum up productions in one minute flat. Of one show, he wrote, "As with so many recent musicals, none of the principals can really sing."
In another, he wrote that "`Illya Darling' rests on the premise that Melina Mercouri is irresistible. ... This highly unlikely premise . ..." He raised a ruckus when a producer quoted him in an ad as saying "Melina is irresistible."
Some of his less-than-kind comments about David Merrick's shows prompted the headline-loving producer to try to ban Newman from his productions.
After retiring in January 1984, Newman enjoyed being on "Saturday Night Live" skits and in several situation comedies, where, he said, "I've always had the demanding job of playing myself." (In one SNL sketch, he mans a suicide hot line and keeps correcting the desperate caller's grammar.)
He narrated some public television programs, including the 1988 PBS series "Television."
"So much on TV over the years has been good," he said at the time. "The question is raised, why can't there be more such good, worthwhile, deserving programs? But I have never met a payroll or had to sell time on the air. It is easy to be critical."
Newman was born in New York City in 1919, and got his first taste of reporting on his high school paper. A brother, M.W. Newman, became an award-winning reporter for the Chicago Daily News and the Chicago Sun-Times. He died in 2001.
After studying at the University of Wisconsin and Louisiana State, Newman began his journalism career in the Washington bureau of the International News Service.
He rose to NBC bureau chief in London, then Rome, then Paris before returning to the United States permanently in 1961, covering a variety of assignments for NBC.
He and his wife, Rigel, had one daughter, Nancy.
"News is a great business," Newman once wrote. "I count myself lucky to be in it."
"I remember when the bulletin came on the AP wire that Spiro Agnew had resigned as vice president. I ran to the announcer's booth. There was an American League playoff game on. Whoever was in charge of operations control wanted me to wait until the end of the inning. I said, `The next time the pitcher delivers the pitch and you see the ball in the catcher's mitt, switch to me and I'll be off before the pitcher throws another ball."'