"I've been incredibly, incredibly fortunate. It's unbelievable. I'm doing the thing I love. I didn't expect to have this job. I did not think it was going to happen."

Neither did ABC.

When fortysomethings Bob Woodruff and Elizabeth Vargas were named in December 2005 as replacements for the late, great Peter Jennings, it was "game over" for Gibson. He set his retirement for June 22, 2007.

Fate had other plans. On Jan. 29, exactly 26 days after the tandem's debut, Woodruff was seriously injured in a bomb blast in Iraq. Then Vargas, unexpectedly pregnant, anchored her last World News May 26.

Three days later, Gibson, who joined ABC in 1965, was promoted to the post many felt should have been his the first time.

He's not flashy. He's not fall-down funny. He doesn't talk in sound bites and he doesn't pretend to listen. Unlike most TV types, Gibson would rather ask about your life than talk about his.

Did we say talk? A genial fellow, Gibson never met a conversation he didn't like, and it drives ABC publicists batty. Interviews scheduled for 15 minutes routinely run three times longer.

"He's the biggest yakker of all," says World News boss Jon Banner. "He'll talk to you forever. When 6:28 rolls around, I'll say, 'OK, time to go to the studio.' Sometimes it gets a little too close for comfort."

Gibson is also old school, to the max.

He doesn't carry a BlackBerry - ABC gave him one, but he couldn't figure out how to use it. He was ordered to carry a cell phone, but he still hasn't mastered the ringer. He's never flown in the Disney jet.

To Gibson, news "is a balance between what people want to know and what they need to know. You can't be completely impervious to what they want to know."

On the other hand, a little bit of celebrity goes a long way. "People need to understand that news isn't just Paris Hilton or Anna Nicole Smith or Rosie O'Donnell or Michael Jackson."

Gibson, a Princeton grad, was raised to stand when his parents entered the room and to call his father "sir" and to always, always wear a tie to work.

Jennings, a regular bold-face presence on Page Six, favored polo shirts and khakis, slipping into his elegant suits in late afternoon. Gibson won't even loosen his tie - "I think it makes you look drunk," he says.

"Peter was the James Bond of TV news. Charlie is Ward Cleaver," says correspondent Tapper, 38, who grew up in Merion and graduated from Akiba Hebrew Academy.

"The fatherly appeal he has is totally legitimate. I understand why viewers have affection for him, because it's how we feel. He's a modest, genuinely sweet man."

NBC's Williams says he hates losing to Gibson, "but it's impossible to hate Charlie."

"He's a thoroughly decent guy and a terrific competitor who has a quality I admire - he's the first to give credit to the team around him. It's always been Charlie's reflex."

How's this for reflex? When Gibson ascended from morning anchor to the face of ABC News, he didn't get a raise in his contract, which runs until early 2009. He didn't request one and one wasn't offered, he says.