Bah-bar-ah's Bow

Every working day, Barbara Walters would rise before dawn, stagger into a waiting limousine and make it to the NBC studios in time to have her hair done for the Today show. One day last week she slept until 7, had breakfast with her daughter Jacqueline, 8, washed her hair in the kitchen sink of her midtown Manhattan apartment and took a taxi to work. That day there was something else new in her routine. Four months and uncounted fan-magazine headlines after she left Today, Walters faced the television public for the first time in her new $1 million-a-year job on the ABC Evening News. Reported the rookie anchor woman afterward: "About two seconds before we went on the air, I thought, 'Please, God ... ' but that was all the time I had to think about it."

The Deity's Nielsen habits are unknown, but in cities where overnight ratings were available, nearly twice as many mortals as usual were watching ABC, and as many as watched CBS and NBC combined. Walters' debut was as crisp as a new $100 bill. That, incidentally, is about what she makes for every minute on the newscast, and she earned it. Walters fluffed nary a line, and even had two modest opening-night scoops. Newly deposed Agriculture Secretary Earl Butz suggested by telephone shortly before air time that Jimmy Carter should follow his example and resign for using lewd language. Egyptian President Anwar Sadat disclosed in a taped interview via satellite that he had been asked to send troops into Lebanon. "1 must tell you quite frankly, Bah-bar-ah," said the helpful newsmaker, "this is for the first time." He later congratulated her on her "million-dollar job" and noted somewhat wistfully that he earns a minuscule $12,000. Given time for a debut statement of her own, Walters promised viewers "the best darn news program on the air."

The format ABC has fashioned around its new evening star may not be the best, but it is as personalized as Walters' weadily wecognizable delivewy (WR substitution, speech therapists call it). She was allowed to display her interviewing talents with Sadat two nights in a row, with a Pennsylvania health official (about fallout in the state from a Chinese nuclear test last month) and with several ABC correspondents. She spoke to all of them over a 24-in. television screen on the show's aseptic-looking silvery gray set. Walters also introduced a somewhat stagy filmed report on how to locate runaway fathers, part of the show's new emphasis on self-help information, and she managed some chitchat with Partner Harry Reasoner.

Welcome Back. None dare call it show biz, but that new and less hard-newsy combination of interviews, news-you-can-use features and ad libbing is being watched closely by CBS and NBC, which now largely serve their news straight, thank you. To their relief, Walters' ratings dipped after opening night, and on Tuesday NBC's David Brinkley opened his network's show by greeting viewers with, "Welcome back." But if enough curious Walters watchers stick around to lift ABC's evening news Niel sen rating by a single point--a reasonable prospect--the network can hike its rates for commercial spots on the show by some $2,000 a minute, or $2 million a year--which would yield ABC a nice 100% profit on its Walters investment.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.