At a time when journalism is sometimes confused with boosterism, ABC's Peter Jennings, who died Sunday night of lung cancer, was a cool, calm and decidedly objective presence in television news.

The qualities so admired by some prompted others to accuse him of "anti-Americanism." Critics pointed out that he never said "we" when reporting on foreign conflicts involving the United States. He was, some said with undisguised contempt, an "internationalist."

Jennings certainly had a world view. Born in Canada, he acquired dual American citizenship in 2003. Through most of his early career, he was based in London, Berlin or the Middle East.

But like many immigrants, Jennings fell in love with his adopted homeland, as seen in dozens of reports from small towns and big cities around the country. He relished finding small connections to big stories. He loved American history and studied voraciously.

He also developed a fascination with, and an encyclopedic knowledge of, American politics. His obsession once prompted a former ABC News colleague, the late David Brinkley, to remark that "Peter is sometimes more American than I am."

Jennings' meteoric rise in broadcast journalism is legendary. A high school dropout at 17, he became the youngest American network anchor at the very green age of 26 — a job the young Canadian did not seek and, after two years, was smart enough to walk away from. He realized that he didn't have the experience or the gravitas to go up against Walter Cronkite, Chet Huntley and Brinkley.

So Jennings persuaded ABC News to send him off as a foreign correspondent. A lesser professional might have hung onto the anchor chair with charm and bluster, but Jennings wanted to be, first and foremost, a good reporter. He knew he needed both self-confidence and the confidence of others that can only be acquired through hard work and experience.

"I have very little formal education," Jennings said in an interview in the early '90s. "As a result, I've been a student all my life."

ABC News brought him back to the anchor desk as part of a triumvirate in 1978. From the bureau in London, he co-anchored with Frank Reynolds in Washington, D.C., and Max Robinson in Chicago.

After Reynolds died in 1983, Jennings became ABC's solo anchor. It was a job he quickly conquered and made his own. Breaking news — the more complex the better — was his forte, and nobody held it together better than Jennings during 60 hours of continuous coverage after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks.

Jennings remained poised, juggling fast-moving information and horrific images. At the end of the second day, visibly strained and weary, he choked back emotion only once and then soldiered on.

"Make no mistake, inside that tall, handsome, elegant and eloquent exterior beat the heart of a fierce but principled competitor," said former CBS anchor Dan Rather in a statement Monday.

In reporting on the subsequent war on terror, Jennings was skeptical without being cynical. He refused to take offense when some viewers and government insiders accused him of being unpatriotic. He was, he said, an objective journalist doing his job; those who criticized him, he said, were people caught up in the emotion of the moment.

Within the journalism community, Jennings was held in high regard. In the dog-eat-dog world of TV news, he was both respected and liked.

"We were not just competitors and colleagues, we were friends," said former NBC anchor Tom Brokaw in a statement Monday. "We had a lot of opportunities to reflect on this in the last year."

When Rather stepped down as anchor in the wake of a flawed report on President Bush's National Guard service, Jennings described Rather as a "good reporter and loyal friend." He went out of his way to support the people he worked with, as well as the competitors he worked against.

Dogged and serious, Jennings also was quick-witted and self-deprecating. Even when announcing his dire diagnosis in April, he poked fun at his image as a GQ pretty boy: "I wonder if other men and women ask their doctors right away, 'OK, doc, when does the hair go?' "

Jennings elevated television news and will be sorely missed. We will realize just how much the next time a story breaks that is complicated, horrifying and perhaps life-changing. The uncanny ability to make sense of the senseless with a calm voice and steady hand was Jennings' calling.

dholloway@statesman.com; 445-3608