Going There

Katie Couric's memoir traces her four-decade career in broadcast journalism alongside the personal losses, relationships, and cultural shifts that shaped her life. The youngest of four children raised in Arlington, Virginia, Couric credits her father, John, a former newspaper reporter turned public relations professional, with instilling a love of news and words. Her mother, Elinor, a devoted homemaker who told her children "Let 'em know you're there," wanted more for them than her own life had allowed.

After graduating from the University of Virginia, Couric talked her way into a desk assistant job at the ABC News bureau in Washington, DC, displaying what her father called "moxie." She later moved to CNN, where a disastrous live report from the White House led the network president to ban her from the airwaves. She took an associate producer role on Take Two, where mentors Don Farmer and Chris Curle trained her in interviewing and storytelling. She also confronted CNN executive Ed Turner after he humiliated her with a sexist remark at a staff meeting, writing a formal memo that secured an apology.

Couric moved to local news in Miami and then Washington, DC, steadily building her reporting skills. During college and her early career, she struggled privately with bulimia, fueled by the culture's obsession with thinness. A roommate's confrontation and the death of singer Karen Carpenter from anorexia finally pushed her to break the cycle. She met Jay Monahan, a lawyer, at a friend's party in early 1987, boldly pursued him, and they married in June 1989. Tim Russert, the NBC Washington bureau chief, offered her a Pentagon correspondent position, and her coverage of the First Gulf War earned her regular placement on the TODAY show. When she substituted as co-anchor during Deborah Norville's maternity leave, her humor and relatability produced an immediate ratings boost.

NBC offered her the permanent co-anchor position. She insisted on a 50/50 split of major interviews with co-anchor Bryant Gumbel before revealing that she was pregnant. Her first day, April 5, 1991, introduced a tension that would define her career: the serious journalist "Katherine" versus the approachable personality "Katie." She gave birth to daughter Ellie and navigated new motherhood, including a nanny whose controlling behavior forced a dramatic firing and retaliatory harassment campaign.

The mid-1990s represented the peak of Couric's TODAY era. Working with executive producer Jeff Zucker, she drove the broadcast to ratings dominance. She interviewed David Duke, the white supremacist presidential candidate, earning praise from her father, who called it "an interview in the tradition of Edward R. Murrow." She covered the Rodney King beating, the LA riots, and the OJ Simpson trial, later reflecting critically on the media's failure to address systemic racism. She gave birth to second daughter Carrie, and Matt Lauer joined as her on-screen partner. Their chemistry was immediate, though they kept their personal lives largely separate.

The memoir's emotional center arrives with Jay's illness. On April 3, 1997, he collapsed in pain, and an emergency examination revealed colon cancer that had spread to his liver. Couric researched treatments while performing as the cheerful Katie on TODAY each morning and collapsing in despair afterward. She chose not to tell Jay the full severity of his prognosis, a decision she deeply regrets. The cancer spread to his lungs and then behind his eye. He grew emaciated but continued spending time with his daughters. He died on January 24, 1998, at age 42. Couric knelt before six-year-old Ellie and said, "Daddy died." Ellie giggled, unable to process the words.

Couric returned to TODAY four weeks later, wearing Jay's wedding ring on a chain around her neck. She channeled her grief into cancer advocacy. Her televised colonoscopy produced a 20 percent increase in screenings nationwide, a phenomenon dubbed "the Couric Effect." She co-founded Stand Up To Cancer, which ultimately raised over $600 million. Her sister Emily, a Virginia state senator, died of pancreatic cancer in October 2001, weeks after the September 11 attacks. Couric anchored the September 11 coverage on TODAY, maintaining composure while privately worrying about her daughters and her parents near the Pentagon.

Her dating life after Jay's death is a recurring thread. A relationship with TV producer Tom Werner ended with a breakup via email. She briefly dated jazz trumpeter Chris Botti and later began a longer relationship with Brooks Perlin, a man 17 years her junior, which she acknowledges as a midlife rebellion.

In 2006, Couric made the most consequential decision of her career when CBS chairman Les Moonves recruited her to anchor the CBS Evening News, making her the first solo female anchor of a network evening newscast. The move proved difficult. Her format innovations and leaked $15 million salary alienated the tradition-bound newsroom. Critics questioned her "gravitas," a word she decides is "Latin for testicles." Jeff Fager, the executive producer of 60 Minutes, marginalized her contributions by reassigning her story ideas. Moonves later suggested she move to the morning show; she refused. Her most notable CBS achievement was her September 2008 interview with Republican vice-presidential nominee Sarah Palin, whose inability to name newspapers she read and muddled foreign-policy answers became a defining campaign moment. The interview won a duPont-Columbia Award. Her father, who had Parkinson's disease, died in August 2011.

After leaving CBS, Couric reunited with Zucker to launch a syndicated daytime talk show, Katie, on ABC. The show suffered an identity crisis: Couric wanted substantive journalism, but the format demanded lighter fare. Zucker proved disengaged, and ABC fired him after one season; he was promptly named president of CNN.

During this period, Couric met John Molner, a banker six years her junior, on a blind date. Molner was funny, emotionally healthy, and unfazed by her fame. He proposed on the beach in the Hamptons on Labor Day weekend 2013. Shortly after, he fell ill; a visit to the Jay Monahan Center, the facility she had established in Jay's name, revealed a tumor on his liver. Surgery was successful, and the tumor proved indolent. They married on June 21, 2014, in East Hampton. Jay's sister Clare told Couric at the reception, "I've prayed for you to meet a wonderful man," giving her permission to love John while still loving Jay. Couric's mother, Elinor, died on Labor Day 2014 at age 91.

The memoir's final section reckons with the MeToo movement. Weeks before his firing, Couric had dinner with Lauer, during which he dismissed the MeToo movement as "a witch hunt." He was fired on November 29, 2017, for "inappropriate sexual behavior." Couric struggled to reconcile the colleague she had known with the predator described in news reports. Former production assistant Addie Zinone, whom Couric had mentored at NBC, revealed that Lauer had pursued her for transactional sex. Couric concludes that Lauer was simultaneously "an excellent professional partner, a good friend, and a predator," and acknowledges the broader system that enabled him.

The downfalls of Les Moonves and Jeff Fager followed. Moonves was fired from CBS after allegations of sexual assault and coercion, and Fager was fired for sending a threatening text to a reporter covering the investigation. Couric took daughter Carrie to Virginia to learn about Jay, visiting their old farmhouse and meeting his reenactment friends. Carrie's Stanford thesis unearthed uncomfortable truths about Jay's romanticization of the Confederacy, including a speech he had delivered defending the Confederate flag. Couric connects this to her family's history with racism while acknowledging that Jay never got the chance to live in a more enlightened era.

Having launched Katie Couric Media with John in 2018, Couric closes the memoir reflecting on aging, relevance, and gratitude. The book ends with a letter from her father, written on the third anniversary of Jay's death, praising her resilience and signing off with the Latin phrase Illegitimi non carborundum: "Don't let the bastards grind you down."