Editors Note: To commemorate Paramount’s slow awards-season rollout of September 5 — the harrowing drama about how ABC sports pivoted from gold medals to the ultimate test of journalistic mettle when terrorists took hostage the Israeli Olympic team at the Munich Olympics — Deadline turned to Sean McManus. While he would go on to become a storied sports executive who rose to president of CBS News and Sports and executive producer of the NFL on CBS, McManus in 1972 he was a high schooler who tagged along with his broadcaster dad Jim McKay to watch the events. He got a unique view of how his father and the sports team headed by Roone Arledge exhibited courage under the extreme pressure of covering live the terrifying events as they unfolded 100 yards away, with the whole world watching, along with members of the Black September terror group. September 5 was a sensation at Venice and Telluride, just opened in Los Angeles, New York and Toronto, and will broaden to wide release in January.

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In 1972, I was a 17-year-old senior in high school and my mother, sister and I attended the Munich Olympics with my dad, Jim McKay, who was assigned to cover gymnastics and track & field for ABC Sports. These Games were billed as the serene Olympics with the security guards outfitted in light blue suits and importantly, without guns. The Organizing Committee and the IOC were focusing on helping erase the memory of the last time the Olympics were in Munich in 1936, when Adolph Hitler used them to promote his Aryan race. 

The Games started out beautifully with American swimmer Mark Spitz and Russian gymnast Olga Korbut captivating the world’s imagination during the first week. These were indeed the serene Olympics, until it all went horribly wrong on September 5th.

The ABC Sports early-morning crew were just arriving at dawn when they heard what sounded like gunshots from afar and suddenly saw a lot of activity outside the gates of the Olympic Village which were just a few steps from the ABC Sports studios. They then began to hear reports of something going on in Building 31 Connelly Street, where the Israeli Olympic Team was staying. That building was only 100 yards from the ABC studio. 

The ABC man in charge, Geoffrey Mason, phoned President and Executive Producer of ABC Sports, Roone Arledge, at his hotel and told him that something potentially bad was happening in building 31. Thirty five minutes later he arrived. As he silently assessed the situation, the first words Arledge said to Mason were, “Get McKay in here!” He was told that it was my dad’s single day off as the gymnastics was over and track & field didn’t begin until the next day. Arledge repeated, “Get McKay in here!”

Mason called my father’s room at the Munich Sheraton and my mom answered and explained that dad was down at the pool swimming and taking a sauna as he did every morning. Mason urgently called down to the pool and minutes later my dad was on his way to the studios where I joined him. At the time, I had no idea I was witnessing television history.

In context, my dad was not the scheduled host of the ABC Olympics, as Chris Schenkel was given that assignment. ABC News Middle East correspondent Peter Jennings was on loan to ABC Sports and available, as was Howard Cosell. Later, when asked why he selected my dad to be the sole anchor, Arledge said it was because he had a newspaper reporter’s background, was a great storyteller and was unflappable during live television. As history has shown, he made the absolute right choice.

My dad sat down in his anchor position later that morning Munich time and didn’t leave until after 3:30 a.m. the next morning. He thus became the primary information source for 900 million people worldwide who would watch this horrific event unfold live. Included in this audience were the parents of Israeli weightlifter David Berger who was being held hostage by the terrorists. They were watching from their home in Shaker Heights, Ohio. Throughout those many long hours, always in the back of my dad’s mind was the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Berger were going to learn whether their son was alive or dead directly from him.

Also remember that the words terror attack and terrorists were not part of our vernacular. These attacks just didn’t happen. In fact, the ABC Sports team were not even sure what to call the men holding the hostages. In the end they used the term Palestinian terrorists.

The hours wore on with threats from the terrorists that they were going to kill one Israeli each hour until their demands were met. They never did, but late in the evening they demanded two helicopters in order to fly themselves and the hostages to a little-used airport outside of Munich. Shortly after the sound of helicopters filled the night air. At one point it was reported that all the hostages had been released and were safe, and my dad explained that this was being reported but could not be confirmed by ABC Sports.

At one point my dad reported that a journalist on-site had said, “All hell has broken out at the airport.” The tension and the enormous gravity of the situation weighed heavily on my father, but he remained poised and professional even as his emotions were swirling inside of him. I remember so well having him occasionally look over at me with a combination of concern, fatigue and even sadness. At times when there was a short break I would spend a little time with him just to offer my encouragement and support. I also realized that his training as a reporter at the Baltimore Sun was serving him well covering one of the biggest news stories of the year.

I watched as the men and women of ABC Sports were now not producing a sporting event, but instead the first ever live coverage of a terrorist attack. And their professionalism and performance never wavered. At one point ABC News tried to insist that they take over the coverage and Arledge was adamant that his team would continue to tell this story of life and death. As I watched all of this unfold, it confirmed for me that I wanted to make my living doing what these men and women were doing. My admiration for them can not be exaggerated. 

Shortly after 3 a.m. my dad was on camera speaking with Chris Schenkel and Peter Jennings when you can tell that he has been given some news in his earpiece and says, “I’ve just gotten the final word.” He utters the words that he hoped never to have spoken, “When I was a kid my dad used to tell me that our greatest hopes and worst fears are seldom realized. Well, our worst fears have been realized tonight.” He then turned to look directly into the camera with pure sadness and fatigue in his eyes and said, “They have now said that there were 11 hostages … two were killed in their rooms yesterday morning, nine were killed at the airport tonight. They’re all gone.”

”They’re all gone,” have become some of the most poignant and well known words ever spoken on television, similar to when Walter Cronkite announced the death of John F. Kennedy on live television.

In the movie September 5, it is significant that all the characters in this drama are portrayed by actors, except my dad. The producers understood that no one could replicate what he did during those seemingly endless hours. They needed his authenticity and presence, not that of an actor. It is one of the elements that makes this move so authentic and riveting. 

My dad and I were driven back to our hotel and said very little, as he was so drained and had no idea of the magnitude of his work seen by some 900 million people worldwide, including David Berger’s parents in Ohio. 

My dad asked for his key and the concierge handed him a telegram which my dad opened. It read, “Jim, you were superb yesterday. The industry has reason to be proud. Congratulations. Walter Cronkite.” We looked at each other and realized that what my dad had just done that day was the ultimate grace under pressure. I will never forget that moment. He carried that telegram in his briefcase until the day he passed away. I now carry it in mine.