After two decades in the biz, he’s an ‘overnight sensation’

Now that the war is largely over, Lester Holt can get together again with his buddies to jam on loud rock songs in a grungy Manhattan rehearsal space.

A bass player, Holt loves the instrument’s subtle part on “Stairway to Heaven.”

Not quite your image of MSNBC’s wartime iron man, eh?

Holt’s graying temples and authoritative manner make him so much the quintessential anchorman that it’s easy to forget there’s a living, breathing human underneath.

Holt’s star is on the rise at NBC News. He worked regularly as MSNBC’s chief war anchor from noon to 6 p.m. Eastern, taking a short break and coming back from 9 p.m. to midnight. On a handful of days, he’d get a few hours of sleep before subbing for Matt Lauer on NBC’s “Today” show at 7 a.m.

“You do suspect after a while that he has a twin brother,” said Erik Sorenson, MSNBC’s general manager.

Holt, 44, is no stranger to anchoring. He spent 15 years as a top local news anchor in Chicago before a demotion led to a career crossroads.

With offers from MSNBC and a station in San Jose, Holt had the chance to go home -- he grew up in the Bay Area -- or try a national news outlet. He moved east.

Only a week into his new job in July 2000, the Concorde crashed after takeoff in Paris, killing 113 people. Holt, who subscribes to Aviation Week and keeps a model B-1 bomber in his office, let people know of his interest in air travel and was quickly put on the air.

He’s flattered and somewhat amused by the attention he’s getting now -- as only an “overnight sensation” who’s been working for more than two decades can be.

“I never believed the anchorman should be the know-it-all,” Holt said. “And I try to communicate that to the audience. While I have some knowledge from my years of experience, what I want to do is walk you through this because we’re all walking through this together.”

When someone comments on his sense of calm on the air, Holt laughs. “It’s fatigue,” he said.

But he wasn’t about to refuse work during the war.

“This is what we do,” he said. “You’re here for the big story. It would be like a fireman saying ‘no’ to a five-alarm fire because he doesn’t want to work too hard. I don’t feel like anybody’s taken advantage of me. And I would feel bad if they weren’t asking me to do all these hours.”