Remembering ‘Colonel Bob’ Edwards

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Estimated time to read:

4–6 minutes

We lost a Kentucky broad­cast leg­end ear­li­er this month. On Saturday, Feb. 10, Bob Edwards died at his home in Virginia at 76. Edwards, a Louisville native, was the long-run­ning host of NPR’s (then known as National Public Radio) Morning Edition radio program.

Widely acclaimed by lis­ten­ers and crit­ics alike, Edwards accu­mu­lat­ed numer­ous hon­ors and awards dur­ing his 55-year-long-radio broad­cast career. Besides win­ning the pres­ti­gious Peabody Award, he was induct­ed into the National Radio Hall of Fame and the Kentucky Journalism Hall of Fame.

Bob Edwards was the very first host of Morning Edition when it debuted in November 1979, and the host to whom I lis­tened reli­gious­ly for over ten years dur­ing my long morn­ing work com­mutes. It would have been much longer than ten years if the exec­u­tives at NPR had not made the sud­den deci­sion in April 2004 to fire him as host.

At the time of his depar­ture, his morn­ing pro­gram was the sec­ond high­est rat­ed show on the radio. Despite his pop­u­lar­i­ty and accom­plish­ments, the NPR suits decid­ed the show need­ed to be “fresh­ened up,” so he was dumped for two younger hosts, Renee Montagne and Steve Inskeep.

The back­lash was instan­ta­neous. NPR heard from over 50,000 dis­ap­point­ed lis­ten­ers (includ­ing this one) after the news broke of Edwards’s invol­un­tary depar­ture. NPR was crit­i­cized for the move by none oth­er than Cokie Roberts, an NPR vet­er­an her­self, and by CBS’s Charles Osgood, among others.

Despite NRP’s offer to use him as a “spe­cial cor­re­spon­dent,” Bob Edwards moved on from pub­lic broad­cast­ing. Taking his gold­en bari­tone voice over to XM Satellite Radio with his own pro­gram, The Bob Edwards Show, he gar­nered more praise and awards. Two years lat­er, he again turned up on pub­lic radio sta­tions with the syn­di­cat­ed pro­gram Weekends with Bob Edwards, though it was pro­duced by Public Radio International, not NPR.

As I said, Bob Edwards was my morn­ing com­mute com­pan­ion via the radio for ten years. His calm, reas­sur­ing voice made even the unfath­omable com­pre­hen­si­ble — nev­er more so than on the morn­ing after the Sep. 11, 2001 attack on the US. 

Like prob­a­bly half of liv­ing Kentuckians, Bob had been grant­ed the hon­orary title of “Kentucky Colonel” by our fair com­mon­wealth. This led the leg­endary and col­or­ful sports broad­cast­ing leg­end Red Barber, who appeared week­ly on Morning Edition until his death in 1991, to bestow the nick­name “Colonel Bob” upon Edwards.

I wish I had dis­cov­ered the pro­gram a few years ear­li­er. I under­stand Edwards’s chats with Barber were leg­endary. Red liked to talk about ran­dom top­ics like the weath­er at his Tallahassee home and his favorite flow­ers. Edwards would lat­er recount how he first attempt­ed to steer the con­ver­sa­tion back to sports — the sup­posed top­ic for which Barber was appear­ing. But even­tu­al­ly, Edwards decid­ed to sit back and enjoy the con­ver­sa­tion, wher­ev­er it led. Those seg­ments became wild­ly pop­u­lar with the audi­ence of Morning Edition.

Bob Edwards at the Third Coast Festival, Oct. 2005. (
Bob Edwards at the Third Coast Festival, Oct. 2005. (Uploaded from under Creative Commons license)

One of my favorite books is Bob Edwards’s mem­oir, A Voice in the Box, pub­lished in 2011 by the University of Kentucky Press. I’ve read it a cou­ple of times and will prob­a­bly dust it off and read it again after I fin­ish the book I’m cur­rent­ly on.

(It’s Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land, a book I first read as a teenag­er and haven’t picked up since. There is some­thing pos­i­tive­ly mys­ti­cal about read­ing a great book you read five decades ago but whose plot you can’t remem­ber. Every page turn is an adven­ture, a mix­ture of absolute won­der and nag­ging déjà vu.)

In his book, Edwards does not try to hide his dis­plea­sure at being uncer­e­mo­ni­ous­ly dropped by NRP just months ahead of what would have been the 25th anniver­sary of the show and of his being host. He details the day of his fir­ing (sor­ry, his “reas­sign­ment”), not­ing with unabashed bit­ter­ness how NPR exec Jay Kernis broke the news. Edwards described Kernis as one of his “old­est and dear­est friends.”

Yet in the meet­ing where Edwards was told his tenure at Morning Edition was soon to end, Kernis read the news to Edwards from a writ­ten script. He nev­er even thanked Edwards for his 30 years of ser­vice to NPR and for help­ing to cre­ate the most suc­cess­ful 25-year run of any pub­lic radio pro­gram ever.

There is a bevy of “inside base­ball” accounts in the book, but one of my favorite chap­ters, “Hillbullies,” describes a radio doc­u­men­tary Bob did while on The Bob Edwards Show. The pro­gram was nom­i­nal­ly about moun­tain­top removal coal min­ing in east­ern Kentucky, but the word “her­itage” was includ­ed to indi­cate that “it’s more than moun­tains being destroyed.” Edwards tapped Kentucky poet and author Wendell Berry as lead writer and involved Tom Gish, pub­lish­er of the leg­endary Mountain Eagle (“it screams!”) news­pa­per in Whitesburg.

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Despite world­wide acclaim, Bob nev­er for­got his old Kentucky home, includ­ing the part of the com­mon­wealth far­thest removed from his Louisville home­town. He con­cludes the chap­ter with this gem:

“We get our elec­tric pow­er by abus­ing the pow­er­less. How is it that a region so rich in a valu­able nat­ur­al resource has some of the worst schools and poor­est health care in the nation? Perhaps the absen­tee own­ers of the ener­gy com­pa­nies should be required to estab­lish a neigh­bor­ly social con­tract with the peo­ple whose land they’ve trashed.

“But it’s only Appalachia. Congress blocks oil drilling in Alaska’s Arctic National Wildlife Refuge where no human lives, but it sup­ports the rape of Central Appalachia, home to 7.5 mil­lion people.”

For about two months after Bob’s depar­ture from Morning Edition, I lodged a per­son­al boy­cott against the pro­gram. But I couldn’t deal with the rub­bish that pass­es for morn­ing shows on com­mer­cial radio — and this was before the advent of pod­cast­ing — so I reluc­tant­ly began tun­ing in again to NPR on the morn­ing dri­ve. And soon, I learned to appre­ci­ate and even like the new hosts, Montagne and Inskeep. But in my mind, no one will ever sur­pass Bob Edwards.

Rest in peace, Colonel Bob.

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