In Tonight at Six, veteran journalist Michael Olesker paints an intimate, behind-the-scenes picture of local television news as few have ever seen it. He describes the long slide of a medium that was once assumed to be the golden future of American journalism, but is now widely considered an afterthought for viewers seeking serious news coverage. In his two decades as a nightly on-air commentator at Baltimore's WJZ-TV, Olesker watched as the station tumbled from pre-eminence as one of the country's top-rated local affiliates-where the on-air news personalities included the two top-ranked anchors in the country, plus a young woman named Oprah Winfrey-to inglorious runner-up in its own market. Tonight at Six offers a personal look at many of those public news personalities. But it's also a story about the decline of all TV news: how commercial considerations, short-sighted management, and the constant pressure of ratings forced the dumbing-down of local news programs around the country. It's the true story of how television stations purporting to cover the stories of huge metropolitan areas-their governors, mayors, city and county councils, school systems, police, criminal courts, neighborhoods, and more-quietly attempt this with no more than a handful of reporters. How do they do it? As Olesker explains, they don't. "While this account eviscerates three Baltimore network affiliates, the sad truth is that they are no worse-and no better-than all local TV news operations. Olesker paints a high-definition picture of the facade beneath the facade." Ira R. Allen Former UPI Reporter and White House Correspondent

In Journeys to the Heart of Baltimore, veteran journalist Michael Olesker writes of Baltimore's melting pot in all its rollicking, sentimental, good-natured, and chaotic essence. The stories come from neighborhood street corners and front stoops, playgrounds and school rooms, churches and synagogues, and families gathered around late-night kitchen tables. The D'Alesandro political dynasty comes to life here, and so do Lenny Moore and Artie Donovan of the legendary Baltimore Colts. The old East Baltimore ethnic enclaves nurture youngsters named Barbara Mikulski and Ted Venetoulis, and out of West Baltimore comes the future Afro-American newspaper publisher Jake Oliver. Journeys to the Heart of Baltimore is a delightful reminder of the nation's ethnic and racial mosaic, home to a future governor named Martin O'Malley and a future US Representative named Dutch Ruppersberger. Boys from Baltimore's Little Italy, like John Pica, go off to fight a war in Italy when they know their allegiance is being tested. And a city struggles through racial convulsions, remembered by those such as John Steadman and Father Constantine Sitaris.

Front Stoops in the Fifties recounts the stories of some of Baltimore's most famous personalities as they grew up during the "decade of conformity." Such familiar names as Jerry Leiber, Nancy Pelosi, Thurgood Marshall, and Barry Levinson figure prominently in Michael Olesker's gripping account, which draws on personal interviews and journalistic digging. Olesker marks the end of the fifties with the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. "It's as if millions will suddenly decide to act out their anxieties and their rage, as if Kennedy's murder exposed some hypocrisy at the heart of the American dream," he writes. Focusing on the period leading up to this turning point in U.S. history, Olesker looks to the individuals living through the changes that were just beginning to surface and would later come to prominence in the sixties. The fifties are often remembered with longing as a more innocent time. But it was also a suffocating time for many. Alongside innocence was ignorance. Olesker tells the story of Nancy D'Alesandro Pelosi, daughter of the mayor, who grew up in a political home and eventually became the first woman Speaker of the House. Thurgood Marshall, schooled in a racially segregated classroom, went on to argue Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka before the U.S. Supreme Court and rewrite race-relations law. Even the music changed. Olesker's doo-wop portrait of Baltimore is nostalgic, but it has a hard edge.