The headline on the Feb. 13 obituary for Bob Edwards referred to him as “unflappable.” I clearly recall the time he was anything but [“Unflappable broadcaster helped make NPR’s ‘Morning Edition’ a mainstay.”].
On the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, I was attending an off-site conference with colleagues. Shortly after 9 a.m., a woman from a neighboring conference room burst in to tell us about the airplanes that had struck the World Trade Center. After attempting to continue our deliberations, our group leader suggested we take a break to gather our thoughts. I headed outside to my car and switched on the radio, hoping to get further information from NPR. The first voice I heard was Edwards’s, trying to sum up the news of the moment. Suddenly, there was a pause, and then Edwards’s sobbing voice, struggling to tell his listeners that the first tower was falling. He tried to regain his composure, but it was impossible. He continued to cry, and so did I.
