Bill Moyers left us on June 26 at the age of 91.^[1]  His declining health over the past few years, and now his death, have left us longing for more of what he gave so generously in life: insatiable curiosity, clarifying insight, empathy grounded in respect, courage tempered by humility, and optimism anchored in realism.

Because of his life’s work—and because his career spanned a remarkable era in mass communication, from the birth of television to the rise of the internet—we are fortunate to have an extraordinary archive of his spoken and written words. These will continue to inform, inspire, and challenge future generations.

And yet, his passing leaves a profound void. In this particular moment in our history, we no longer have Bill’s voice to help us see more clearly, think more deeply, and hope more wisely.

Called to a Life of Words

Bill Moyers was born Billy Don Moyers on June 5, 1934, in Hugo, Oklahoma, and raised in the East Texas town of Marshall. It was there that one of his lifelong callings, journalism, first took root. By the age of 16, he was already working as a cub reporter for the Marshall News Messenger. The people of Marshall likely weren’t surprised when he left for nearby Denton to study journalism at North Texas State College and later transferred to the University of Texas, where he earned his B.A. and wrote for The Daily Texan.  Yet journalism, though a constant thread, would have to wait. Two other powerful callings would emerge before the life of a journalist fully claimed him.

In mid-20th-century East Texas, Southern Baptist faith was a cultural bedrock of daily life. Billy was raised in a deeply religious household, and it came as little surprise to his family and neighbors when he began to sense another calling: the pastoral ministry. After graduating from the University of Texas, he was awarded a prestigious Rotary International Fellowship, which enabled him to study the complex interplay between church and state at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland. Upon returning to Texas, he enrolled at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth, where he earned a Master of Divinity degree. Ordained into the Baptist ministry, he briefly served a small congregation in Weir, Texas, near Austin, as he thoughtfully considered a life in the pulpit.

But it seems that God, or Bill himself, or perhaps the Universe had other plans. Guided by an insatiable curiosity and a courageous, questioning spirit, he embarked on a lifelong journey to explore the meaning and beauty of the universe and the enduring human search for purpose and fulfillment. Yet he never fully left behind his East Texas roots or his pastoral calling. His slow, deliberate, and compelling way of speaking, along with a moral compass deeply shaped by his religious upbringing, made it clear: you could take the preacher out of East Texas, but you couldn’t take the East Texas preacher out of Bill Moyers.

Bill’s third calling was to public service. In 1960, he advised Senator Lyndon Johnson during his unsuccessful bid for the Democratic presidential nomination. That connection eventually brought him into government, where he served as an aide to President John F. Kennedy and remained in public service through much of the 1960s. During this time, he played a pivotal role in launching both the Peace Corps and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. After Kennedy’s assassination, Moyers became a key figure in President Johnson’s administration, serving as Johnson’s de facto Chief of Staff and White House Press Secretary—re-engaging the world of journalism, albeit sometimes as a foil to the cadre of White House correspondents.

After breaking with Johnson, reportedly over the Vietnam War, Bill returned fully to journalism. He began his career in print at Newsday, then moved into television with CBS News, before ultimately finding his true home in public broadcasting at PBS, with a brief interlude at NBC News. From that point forward, he referred to himself primarily as a journalist. But early in his journalistic journey, he began to hear yet another call—one that would define much of his later work: the call of the Commentator.

Called to Transcend Journalism

More often than not, if you Google “Bill Moyers,” he is referred to as a noted and influential “commentator.”  In this case, Google has it right!

In this context, the role of the Commentator is that of an interpreter—one who does more than report facts or relay events. A true commentator provides context, draws connections, and offers insight, often in the service of public understanding and moral clarity. Unlike the reporter, whose primary task is to document and inform, the commentator probes deeper—examining meaning, evaluating significance, and considering implications. When accomplished with integrity and skill, the role demands intellectual rigor, rhetorical precision, and a deep ethical engagement with the world.

Historically, culturally consequential commentators have emerged in periods of transformation, when societies face challenges that demand not just information, but interpretation. In classical antiquity, figures such as Cicero and Seneca served as public intellectuals, utilizing rhetoric and philosophy to engage with civic life and articulate ethical frameworks. During the medieval period, biblical and theological commentators such as Thomas Aquinas and Maimonides shaped cultural and moral understanding by interpreting sacred texts for broader communities. The Enlightenment gave rise to essayists and pamphleteers such as Voltaire, Rousseau, and Thomas Paine, who employed commentary as a tool of critique and reform, often in revolutionary contexts. In the modern era, writers such as Walter Lippmann, George Orwell, Reinhold Niebuhr, and James Baldwin brought the full force of moral and intellectual gravitas to journalism, using public platforms to question, critique, and inspire.

Bill Moyers stands firmly in this tradition of public commentary, particularly in the American context. His professional life was animated not just by a drive to inform, but by a calling to interpret, challenge, and provoke reflection. Through his work, Bill illuminated the moral dimensions of American democracy, exposed the deeper currents shaping public life, and invited his audiences to engage in a more thoughtful, humane, and honest national conversation.

A hallmark of Bill’s legacy as a commentator was his pioneering use of television to infuse journalism with moral vision. Through platforms like Bill Moyers Journal, NOW with Bill Moyers, and Moyers & Company, he went beyond reporting to examine the deeper cultural, ethical, and spiritual significance of the news. His work consistently engaged pressing issues—war, social and economic inequality, religion, and the environment—with a clear and unapologetic normative framework.

Bill’s theological training gave him a distinct voice in American media. Programs like Joseph Campbell and the Power of Myth showcased his rare ability to weave together myth, storytelling, and the human search for meaning—commentary grounded not only in intellect, but in the emotional and spiritual dimensions of experience.

He had the courage to speak truth to power—not only during his years of public service under two presidents, but through his persistent critique of corporate influence, media consolidation, and political corruption. In doing so, he assumed the commentator’s traditional role as a moral conscience of society—a role sorely needed in our present moment.

Like the great essayists and religious interpreters before him, Moyers acted as a translator between complex ideas and the general public. He brought philosophical, theological, and academic insights into the realm of accessible public discourse with both clarity and grace.

In every sense, Bill Moyers was a quintessential commentator in the classical tradition—a moral interpreter of public life. He combined the investigative rigor of a journalist with the reflective depth of a theologian and the critical sensibility of a public intellectual. In doing so, he revitalized the role of the commentator in an age dominated by soundbites and spectacle, reminding us that media can be not just a source of information and entertainment but also a catalyst for moral imagination and civic renewal.

Character Matters

Bill Moyers’ character infused everything he said or wrote. It was the bedrock of his interviewing style, the force behind how he engaged both the hearts and minds of his audiences and the moral compass that guided the values he championed and the policies he supported.

At the heart of his approach to the world was an insatiable curiosity—a restless, generous hunger to understand. For him, no idea was too small, no subject unworthy to merit thoughtful attention.

His quest to understand was continually shaped and refined by his gift of clarifying insight. He didn’t just seek knowledge—he illuminated it. With remarkable clarity, he could distill complexity into meaning, making the intricate understandable and the abstract accessible. It was this rare ability to see through the noise and to find the essential truth within tangled ideas that gave his work such enduring power and resonance.

To this rare and magical blend was added a remarkable empathy—an empathy grounded not in sentimentality, but in deep respect for the dignity of others. He listened not just to respond, but to truly understand, approaching every person and perspective with a genuine openness of mind and heart. Whether he was interviewing a world leader or an unknown poet, Bill Moyers met them with the same attentive presence, honoring their humanity and inviting his audience to do the same.

The courage behind Bill’s unwavering conviction to speak truth to power was always tempered by humility. His boldness never tipped into arrogance because it was rooted not in ego, but in principle—a deep sense of responsibility to the public good. He understood that moral authority is not declared, but earned through integrity, reflection, and restraint. Even as he challenged the powerful, he did so without self-righteousness, always aware of the complexity of the human condition and his own place within it. It was this rare combination of moral courage and personal humility that gave his voice such credibility and compelled an amazingly wide range of people to listen.

In several essays and speeches, Bill discussed his realistic optimism: the balancing act of acknowledging harsh realities while maintaining hope and action.  For instance, he stated that:

“Pessimism of the mind”  reflects his commitment to sober, unvarnished reporting—a refusal to sugarcoat reality. “Optimism of the will” expresses a sense of active agency, rooted in familial and civic roles, driving him each day.  His embrace of both modes—intellectual rigor and moral hope—underscored much of his work and public stance.

At the heart of Bill Moyers’ extraordinary life and work was a profound sense of purpose: he spoke and wrote not merely because he possessed exceptional skill as a commentator, interviewer, or writer, but because the circumstances called for his voice. His communication was always driven by necessity—by the imperative to address pressing truths to the appropriate audience at the right moment. Moyers sought to present the world honestly, acknowledging both its flaws and its beauty, while simultaneously urging his audience to remain motivated by hope. For him, each day represented an opportunity to contribute meaningfully to the pursuit of a better future through thoughtful, compassionate, and morally engaged discourse.

An Intellectual Compass

Bill became one of my intellectual mentors when I began using the book The Power of Myth^[3] in my teaching of sociology, religious studies, and social ethics. Through that work, he helped me to see that myth-making is not just a relic of ancient cultures but an essential form of storytelling—a way of using language imaginatively to convey meaning, not merely to explain. The great preachers have always known this: that stories speak to the soul in ways arguments cannot.

From the moment I encountered The Power of Myth and reengaged with Bill’s voice in his evolving role as a broadcast and documentary commentator, I found myself newly drawn to the art of wordcraft. His example deepened my appreciation for storytelling in my own teaching and writing—and later, in my preaching and poetry.  He demonstrated how imaginative language—through metaphor, simile, symbolism, and vivid sensory detail—can bring ideas to life. Such language makes the invisible visible, the abstract tangible. A single, well-chosen image can evoke a moment more powerfully than any straightforward description.

Bill also showed how the right words can amplify the emotional core of a story—joy, fear, sorrow, awe—drawing listeners not just to understand a narrative but to feel it. That emotional resonance is what makes stories linger in the heart and become vehicles for transformation. Through his example, I came to see storytelling not simply as a tool of communication, but as a means of shaping how we see the world and how we live within it.

Moyers also impressed upon me the critical importance of understanding, unpacking, and, when necessary, redirecting the socially defining myths that shape our collective consciousness The myths of America—the American Dream, melting pot, manifest destiny, all men are created equal, give me your tired, alongside America for Americans, no Irish need apply, and the South shall rise again—have long served as narrative frameworks that both reflect and shape national identity. These stories, whether inclusive or exclusionary, aspirational or oppressive, continue to nourish and guide our culture and institutions—for both good and ill.

Around 2018, I came across Bill Moyers’ delightful Fooling with Words: A Celebration of Poets and Their Craft (William Morrow and Company, 1999). The title was inspired by an interview with poet Coleman Barks, who, reflecting on the joy of poetry festivals, remarked, “It’s amazing that so many people can be genuinely excited about fooling with words” (xxiv). Bill took that phrase to heart, defining “fooling with words” as “...the play of poets. They alone understand how much hard work it is. But none I know would have it otherwise, for poems are born this way” (xxiv).

I was drawn to that idea—fooling with words—like a moth to flame. It named something I had been doing as a storyteller all my life, whether as a teacher, philosopher, theologian, ethicist, preacher, writer, or even as a manager and planner. Language had always been my medium. But sometime in my 63rd year, poetry became more than just another mode of expression—it became my favorite pastime and my most intimate and natural form of reflection. Bill helped me see that the serious play of language is not simply a diversion from life’s meaning, but a path into it.

A Kindred Spirit

The Willis family got to know Bill and his wife, Judith, through Sylvia Robison, a former First Lady at Middlebury College (Vermont), a patron of the musical arts, and one of the original members of the Bella Voce Women’s Chorus of Vermont, the choral ensemble my wife, Dawn, created in 2004.  Thus, we formed a colony of ex-pat Texans with offices in New York and Vermont.

In the early years of Bella Voce, one of Dawn’s passions was exploring the intersection of poetry and choral music—specifically, the use of poems not originally written as lyrics. During that time, Bill, a fellow lover of both classical music and poetry, joined that conversation through his long-standing friendship with Sylvia.  Out of that shared appreciation came a copy of Fooling with Words–the very book I later discovered among our hundreds of books in 2018.   On the second flyleaf, Bill had written a simple inscription: “For Dawn—A kindred spirit.” And on the title page, in bold, unmistakable strokes, was his signature—personal, elegant, and full of presence.

Sylvia soon became a cherished friend to both Dawn and me—and, over time, she also came to be our children’s beloved New England grandmother. When our daughter Katherine moved to New York City in 2010, Sylvia introduced her to Bill and Judith, who welcomed her with open arms and generous hearts. Katherine was given a rare behind-the-scenes look at the taping of one of Bill’s broadcasts, with Judith—herself a seasoned producer—serving as her guide. Later, Bill, Judith, and Sylvia invited Katherine, a musician in her own right, to a concert at Carnegie Hall, followed by drinks and what was surely a stimulating conversation at the Russian Tea Room. Judith remained a steady and supportive mentor to Katherine as she pursued a career in sustainability policy—offering insight, encouragement, and a living example of professional grace. She even extended her warmth to our son, Ben, when he and Katherine visited the Moyers’ apartment after Ben moved to the City, including him in the same spirit of hospitality and care.

Even before I discovered Fooling with Words, I sensed a deep kinship with Bill Moyers. We shared common ground: both of us were raised in Texas (though he was born just across the border in Oklahoma), both were seminary-trained, and both carried our pastoral sensibilities into other professional arenas. Bill brought his to politics and journalism; I took mine into engineering, then into academia and freelance writing with a focus on the ethics of technology, and—later in life—into ministry.  And, we were both animated by a sense of calling: a commitment to bring moral clarity to the pressing cultural conversations of our time.

And perhaps most of all, we shared a lifelong love affair with words—their beauty, their power, and their potential to awaken, connect, and transform.

When I began submitting poetry in 2018, I was supported by a small circle of friends and family who served as early readers, among them Sylvia and Bill. Sylvia has remained a faithful reader to this day, but Bill’s thoughtful feedback, though deeply appreciated, was soon curtailed by his declining health. Still, my tentative steps into poetry began to feel more like a true calling when he sent a brief but encouraging email about my poem "Long Ago, Friday Night in Texas," published in my first submission to The Write Launch (Issue 21, January 2019). His words were simple yet deeply affirming: “Strong stuff. Evokes my own memories of long-ago in Marshall.”

Since then, Bill’s legacy and the meaningful moments he shared with my family have continued to nourish my love affair with words and renew my passion for writing and speaking. Not simply because I can say something worth reading or hearing but because some things need to be said.

Thank you, Bill.