To The Morning

 I'm still excited at being at a microphone and talking to listeners. I love that. It's the most basic element of what I do and I still enjoy it very much.

Radio host Bob Edwards.

Noting the passing of radio icon Bob Edwards.

"Morning Edition, I'm Bob Edwards."

His voice silky smooth, his delivery even and measured. He was the morning host of NPR's flagship morning show, a calming and caring presence. He presented news stories without spin, handed off the deets to the person who was reporting from there, and brought everything together neatly. Good news, bad news... You got the gist of it, then you could decide how you felt.

His show was more than just a higher quality Les Nessman. He had a parade of regular guests, two of whom were gems in their own right. Bob made them better.

John Feinstein is a sportswriter and commentator of great heft. He has written definitive books on Bobby Knight, on a memorable baseball season with Hall of Fame pitchers Mike Mussina and Tom Glavine, and a not so memorable season following players in the minors. He's written on boxing, on golf and tennis. He appeared from time to time on Bob Edwards's show to talk sports, always leaving with a droll "Good bye, Bob."

It was their yearly discussion - Feinstein telling Bob about the impending Army-Navy game. It was a discussion about the Xs and Os, but it was about the ending as well. The men on the field toiled for 60 playing minutes, giving no quarter and expecting none, then stood side by side as each team's alma mater was played. Bob would draw details out as only he could - the personal, the inside football - and then would let Feinstein describe how these men, all of whom looked forward to military careers, how some would give their lives in the process, how that moved him not just to tears, but to outright sobbing.

Bob reserved many gentle moments for his weekly interviews of Red Barber, an authentic pioneer of baseball broadcasting. An elder statesman of the days when the men behind the mikes gave you the play by play without any hint of homerism, Red had retired to Tallahassee, FL after leaving full time sportscasting. Every Friday Bob would entertain a couple of minutes of Red's humor, his deep understanding of sports in general and America's Pastime in particular and then... They would chat about the important things in life - how the flowers were blooming in Florida. "In this troubled world of ours, I'm happy to report that the camellias are blooming here in Tallahassee," Red would say. When Red passed away in 1992, a void existed not just in Morning Edition, but in Bob Edwards's life.

It was every Independence Day that Bob's innate sense of the majesty for American history was front and center. The professional, trained voices of the NPR announcers read portions of the Declaration of Independence in turn, with Bob beginning it with "When in the course of human events..." It was his right as host to finish. It was as if the Founders had returned, to read this document, and reaffirm the cause, to which they had pledged their lives, fortune and sacred honor.

NPR moved on from Bob Edwards in the early 2000s, but he didn't move on from the mike. Finding a home on satellite radio, his voice was only stilled when he passed this week. There are a lot of recognizable voices in radio, but not many with a compelling presence.

Perhaps this Friday, it will be Bob's turn to tell Red that the flowers in Florida still bloom, in spite of it all.