The Day the Spokesman Died...

Former White House spokesman Tony Snow dies

WASHINGTON (CNN) -- Former White House press secretary Tony Snow -- who once told reporters "I'm a very lucky guy" -- died at the age of 53 early Saturday after a second battle with cancer.

Snow, who had been undergoing chemotherapy treatments for a recurrence of the disease, left his White House job September 14, 2007, and joined CNN in April as a conservative commentator.

President Bush said Saturday that he and first lady Laura Bush were "deeply saddened" by Snow's death.

"The Snow family has lost a beloved husband and father. And America has lost a devoted public servant and a man of character," the president said in a statement.

"It was a joy to watch Tony at the podium each day."

Snow's successor, White House press secretary Dana Perino, said, "The White House is so deeply saddened by this loss. He was a great friend and colleague and a fantastic press secretary. And his dear family is in our thoughts and prayers."

In 2007, Chief of Staff Josh Bolten had told senior White House staffers that unless they could commit to staying until Bush leaves office in January 2009, they should leave by Labor Day 2007, so Snow resigned.

In parting comments to reporters at his final White House news conference, Snow said, "I feel great."

He also called the job "the most fun I've ever had."

Snow said he was leaving the White House position to make more money for his family. His White House salary was $168,000.

Snow was first diagnosed with colon cancer in February 2005. His colon was removed, and after six months of treatment, doctors said the cancer was in remission.

A recurrence of the illness was diagnosed 11 months after he began the White House media job, and he underwent five weeks of treatment before resuming his daily briefings to the press corps. He was greeted with applause upon his return.

"Not everybody will survive cancer," Snow told the reporters, "but on the other hand, you have got to realize you've got the gift of life, so make the most of it. That is my view, and I'm going to make the most of my time with you."

Perino announced March 27, 2007, that Snow's cancer had recurred, and said doctors had removed a growth from his abdomen the day before.

Bush tapped Snow to replace Scott McClellan in April 2006.

Snow had been an anchor for "Fox News Sunday" and a political analyst for Fox News Channel, which he joined in 1996. He also hosted "The Tony Snow Show" on Fox News Radio.

Snow took a significant pay cut to take the job of press secretary and talked publicly about the financial sacrifices he made. He explained he felt he needed to make more money to help his family, which included children readying for college.

Snow was known for his candor.

In a November 11, 2005, column, Snow wrote that Bush's "wavering conservatism has become an active concern among Republicans, who wish he would stop cowering under the bed and start fighting back against the likes of Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi and Joe Wilson."

"The newly passive George Bush has become something of an embarrassment," Snow's column said.

"I asked him about those comments," joked the president at the time of Snow's appointment. "And he said, 'You should have heard what I said about the other guy.'"

Bush said Snow's long career as a journalist helped him understand "the importance of the relationship between government and those whose job it is to cover the government."

Robert Anthony Snow was born June 1, 1955, in Berea, Kentucky, and was raised in Cincinnati, Ohio. When he was 17, his mother died of colon cancer. She was 38.

After receiving a bachelor's degree in philosophy from Davidson College near Charlotte, North Carolina, in 1977, Snow pursued graduate work in philosophy and economics at the University of Chicago.

He worked as an editorial writer and editor at several newspapers, including The Washington Times and the Detroit News. He wrote a column in Detroit, and later wrote a syndicated column.

Snow joined the administration of Bush's father, George H.W. Bush, in 1991, first as chief speech writer and later as deputy assistant to the president for media affairs.

Snow became a television personality when he launched his news shows on Fox in 1993.

When he returned to work April 30, 2007, after the second cancer diagnosis, a usually articulate and loquacious Snow stumbled to find words.

"You never anticipate this stuff," he said. "It just happens."

"I want to thank you all. It really meant the world to me. Anybody who does not not believe that thoughts and prayers make a difference, they're just wrong."

He then prefaced a discussion of his health by saying, "I'm a very lucky guy."

Outside of work, Snow played the guitar, saxophone and flute, and was in a band called Beats Workin' with other Washington professionals.

Snow is survived by his wife, Jill Walker, and three children.

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I obviously don't watch the show, but this is for my girls...

Nussbaum: Why ‘Lost’ Is the Best Game Show in TV History

Photo illustration: Everett Bogue; Photos: Courtesy of ABC; iStockphoto

Elsewhere in Vulture's Lost finale coverage:
‘Lost’ Season-Finale Recap: A Real Humdinger!
Vulture’s Exclusive Season-Five Preview
Who Called Kate on the Phone?
What Is Octagon Global Recruiting?
Was That the Psychic?
See the Alternate Endings

Hasn't Lost been great this season? Thrilling, funny, sexy, shocking! After the crisis of last season, when the show risked losing an audience frustrated with all the unanswered questions, it's impressive to see its creators unfold its plot so skillfully. Just imagine facing the angry, sweaty, paranoiac pressure from Lost's vocal fan base: All those snarky recaps, all those wails of shark-jumping, all those slash montages of Sayid cheating on Michael with Desmond! It's got to feel a bit like brainstorming episodes naked, onstage, at a Trek convention.

And yet, the writers keep upping the ante. Their brassiest move came in the finale of last season, when they effectively blew out the front door of their own narrative spaceship, revealing — in that eerie final sequence when Kate and Jack met at an airplane hangar — that what we'd thought was a flashback was actually a flash-forward. It was the equivalent of a perfect arabesque; like they were showing off how much power they have over us.

The flash-forward was one of those splashy TV moments, like Kimberly pulling off her wig in Melrose Place. But it's paid off as more than just a gimmick.

That single shift flipped the Lost game board out fifteen squares in each direction. It expanded the show's setting from the island to the world. It raised the level of narrative difficulty, both for the writers and for the fans, pivoting elegantly away from "Will these people get off the island?" and complicating the whole notion of "What will happen next?" (And I'm not even getting into the whole time-travel thing.)

But best of all, it made the show's appeal weirdly clear: that this is as much a game as a story. It's no surprise I find myself talking about the level of difficulty; it feels very much like we're leveling up. My husband, who is a video-game critic, pointed out that Lost online commentary often feels less like a response to a story and more like the way fans deconstruct an ARG, an alternative reality game, participating in communal puzzle-solving and focusing obsessively on tiny details. Some of this is deliberate, of course. Lost has had its own video game and ARGs (The Lost Experience and Find 815); co-creator Damon Lindelof has talked about the influence of Myst. But it was a little bit of a shock to me, a traditional narrative nerd, to realize that what was kicking my ass was the game play, not the deep thoughts.

Because Lost is a brilliant TV show, but it's not brilliant the way our culture usually defines that quality — it's not "Dickensian." It's thought-provoking, but the themes are not always complex; with a few exceptions (for me, Locke and Ben), it has compelling characters, but they have motivations, not true inner lives. Yet if there's one thing this excellent season has demonstrated, it's that a TV show doesn't have to be like a literary novel to be genuinely ambitious. Lost feels a bit like a detective story and a lot like a comic book, but even more like a video game, with some of the pleasures of sci-fi, and definite aspects of a magic show. It's a new kind of tour de force.

Its tricks are tricks of puzzle and chronology — showman's tricks, rhythmic revelations that can lead to real emotional release (Penny and Desmond's phone call at last!) but are more centrally about the mathematical shock of watching two elements slip into unexpected relationship (like the realization that Desmond's "incident" is what caused the plane to crash). The series has always rewarded near-schizophrenic levels of pattern recognition, to such an extent that it can distort my other TV watching (does anyone else watch The Wire expecting license-plate numbers to reveal hidden clues?). But the most original aspect to Lost is the sure-handed way its creators have dovetailed the satisfactions of a story with the payoffs of a game.

And maybe this isn't just a coincidence. After all, board games have taken up a striking amount of space this season. There's Locke with his backgammon; there's Hurley's Connect Four; there was that suggestive, meta-conversation over a game of Risk. And Ben did complain mysteriously about Widmore's "changing the rules": Could the whole thing be a game? Excuse me, I'm off to consult Lostpedia and figure it all out before the finale… —Emily Nussbaum

Another Score for the Big Rig