All weekend I planned to write for today about Chris Cuomo and his long-overdue sacking at CNN.

The clown show that was the two Cuomo brothers frolicking during pandemic prime time was always cringe-inducing, especially to anyone who spent any time in actual journalism.

I had a lot to say about this unethical pretty boy and the third-rate network that he worked for. But then Bob Dole died and the Cuomo mess seemed unimportant. On the other hand, the passing of this great American, this unapologetic patriot, this wounded warrior, deserved to be acknowledged.

So let’s talk about a real man.

Bob Dole.

Dole died Sunday at the age of 98. He was born in Russell, Kansas and grew up in the Dust Bowl. Younger folks probably have no memory of Dole, but to those of us who were around in the 1970s, 80s and 90s, he was a towering figure in the U.S. Senate, a powerful politician who ran unsuccessfully for president in 1996.

In a marvelous long-form obituary, The New York Times gave readers a detailed and colorful biography of Dole, including the story of how when money became tight during the Great Depression, his family moved into the basement of their home, renting out the upstairs.

But that was hardly the worst that befell young Bob Dole. There was World War II.

Mr. Dole enlisted in the Army Reserve during college and was called to active duty in 1943. On April 14, 1945, in the mountains of Italy outside the small town of Castel D’Aiano, about 65 miles north of Florence, the Germans began firing on his platoon. When he saw a fellow soldier fall, Mr. Dole went to pull him to safety. But as he scrambled away he was struck by flying metal. It blew apart his right shoulder and arm and broke several vertebrae in his neck and spine.

His men dragged him back to a foxhole, where he lay crumpled in his blood-soaked uniform for nine hours before he was evacuated. He was just 21.

It was a horrifying turn of events for one of Russell’s(Kansas) most promising young men. Unable to feed or care for himself, he feared he was doomed to a life of selling pencils on the street.

He spent more than three years recovering and underwent at least seven operations. Back in Russell, he devised a homemade weight-and-pulley system to rebuild his strength. 

Dole permanently lost the use of his right hand as a result of his injuries. In a moving passage, The Times mentioned that he was unable to use a knife to cut his meat and so Dole skipped most public dinners, preferring to eat at home.

I met Sen. Bob Dole once. It was during the 1994 senate campaign in Virginia when I spent the afternoon with him as he stumped for Oliver North who was running against incumbent Sen. Chuck Robb. I followed him to a couple of Tidewater locations and the then-Senate majority leader manned a Virginia Beach phone bank with the North campaign.

What I remember most from that afternoon was Dole’s self-deprecating sense of humor. I’d always thought of him as serious, ruthless even.

Turned out, Dole had a droll wit and was relaxed and entertaining around the members of the press corps who were dogging every step of the rambunctious North/Robb campaign.

At one point, Dole was making get-out-the-vote calls. It was a Sunday afternoon and it seemed everyone in Virginia was tuned in to a Redskins game. The few people who did pick up their phones immediately hung up when Dole introduced himself and started to talk politics.

Each time a person slammed a phone in his ear, Dole would sit back in mock disbelief at the lack of respect. As the afternoon wore on it became a running joke.

“Who’s big idea was this?” Dole demanded to know at one point. “All we’re doing is annoying everybody. No one’s going to vote for Colonel North after this!”

Eventually, he gave up, grabbed a soda and held court with the members of the press. Dole was disarmingly charming. I was won over and I suspect others were too.

Contemplating Dole’s long life, it’s hard not to be in awe of the man who started out in a small Kansas town, was gravely injured in war and went on to become one of the most powerful men in America.

It was a poignant moment, captured by news outlets in 2018, when Dole was helped to his feet to stand at attention before the casket of President George H.W. Bush and saluted with his only good hand: his left. It was also a somber reminder that America once was a place of great and brave men.

America could use more men like Bob Dole right now.