When Maria Shriver married Arnold Schwarzenegger 25 years ago, I was among the many who scratched their heads at this daughter of liberalism hooking up with this staunch conservative body-builder-turned-actor.
But I quickly understood that politics can take a backseat to love. And when you find love, you gotta grab it. So I figured, good for them, and good luck and mazel tov.
That said, few were shocked when the famous couple announced last week they were splitting up. There's certainly enough evidence of messing around by the former Governor before he was Governor and Shriver spent lots of time and lots of political goodwill helping him diffuse the sordid allegations during his first run for office.
But then came today, and the bombshell announcement that Schwarzenegger had fathered a child with a married woman who had worked for the family for 20 years. It happened more than a decade ago Schwarzenegger said, as if to put some time distance between his act and the present. But he told Shriver about it only after he left the Governorship.
One can only imagine her reaction. A domestic worker, married, giving birth to a baby that is a half-sibling to Shriver's own kids. A woman who worked in the home for more than 10 years after giving birth, pretending, along with Schwarzenegger, that everything was normal and cool. Wonder if Ms. Shriver gave the woman any of her own kids' old clothes? Does the baby look like Schwarzenegger? So many uncomfortable questions to ponder.
We'll have reaction on the quite public split, and Schwarzenegger's revelation, tonight at 11.
Also at 11, we have exclusive video of a vicious cafeteria fight at a high school in New York City, a fight while school security agents watch and do nothing. Darla Miles has our story.
And we're taking a closer look at home security, because summer is the peak time for home break ins. Turns out we don't do enough to protect ourselves. Consumer Reports discovered that 19 percent of U.S. homeowners don't always lock their doors. 26 percent sometimes don't lock their windows. And 43 percent don't always turn on their home alarm system when they're away. Sheesh.
And finally, he was a bigger-than-life figure, with his broad shoulders and just as broad a smile. And while so many ballplayers seem like jerks, even to little kids, Harmon Killebrew always seemed anything but.
He seemed always nice, at least to a wide-eyed young boy who couldn't get enough baseball in the late 50's and 60's, and who always wanted Harmon Killebrew's playing card in his make-shift all-star-team baseball games against his kid brother way back then.
He was a tremendous home run hitter, 573 in his 22-year career, good for the 11th spot of all-time home runs.
Late last year it was a deep gasp that greeted the news that Killebrew announced he had been diagnosed with esophageal cancer, a particularly aggressive form. It seemed implausible that this big hunk of a man could be sick.
But he was. Last week he said that his cancer was incurable and that he would no longer battle death. Killebrew had long been an advocate for hospice care, and that was what he was now entering for himself.
He died at his home in Arizona today, surrounded by his family. He was 74. I nearly said "just" 74, because as I get older that's what 74 feels like. "Just 74." But I know that for most peeps, it's no shocker to die at 74. Unless one still sees Harmon Killebrew as a young slugger with that big smile and chiseled arms.
We'll also have any breaking news of the night, plus Meteorologist Lee Goldberg with his AccuWeather forecast, and Rob Powers with the night's sports. I hope you can join Sade Baderinwa and me, tonight at 11.