Remembering Susan Stamberg, NPR’s Founding Mother
Susan Stamberg, a defining figure in public radio and the first U.S. woman to anchor a nightly national news program, died at 87. Her career—spanning decades of cultural storytelling, hard-hitting interviews, and intimate human portraits—helped shape NPR’s voice and its place in American life. As colleagues remember her, Stamberg is celebrated not only for groundbreaking moments but for the steady insistence on authenticity, warmth, and rigor.
Born Susan Levitt in Newark, New Jersey, Stamberg grew up in New York City and became the first in her family to attend college, earning a degree in English from Barnard. Her path into broadcasting began in the dawn of NPR, where she joined a small, experimental team that would redefine how radio could tell America’s stories. The early NPR environment offered few role models for women; Stamberg and Linda Wertheimer insisted on offices, space, and a seat at the microphone. “Be yourself,” NPR’s first program director urged. Stamberg took that advice to heart and transformed it into a distinctive on-air presence.
From Weather to Weekly Wonders
Stamberg’s on-air debut came by necessity and serendipity—she filled in as the weather forecaster at WAMU, recounting forecasts with a literary flourish. Her English literature background led her to weave poetry into weather reports, a creative risk that paid off by making information more engaging and human. When she moved to NPR, her voice—raspy, clear, and unmistakably hers—became a bridge between the studio and living rooms around the country.
Her tenure on All Things Considered as an anchor from 1972 established a new standard for broadcast journalism. Stamberg didn’t merely read the news; she explored the human stories behind the headlines. She interviewed cultural icons and politicians alike, probing HUAC-era controversies with a steady, principled persistence that earned her trust and respect in Washington and beyond.
Culture, Curiosity, and a Signature Taste for Detail
Beyond hard news, Stamberg helped NPR cultivate a robust culture beat. She launched the Weekend Edition Sunday puzzle in 1987, treating culture as essential to public life rather than mere ornament. The segment invited listeners to stretch their minds and savor the slow pleasures of Sunday listening. It was one of many moves that underscored NPR’s belief that radio could balance information, reflection, and delight.
Her influence extended to memorable programs and moments—whether she coaxed stories from a famed director about the counsel of HUAC, or introduced audiences to the craft of car mechanics through the Magliozzi brothers, who would eventually become Car Talk. Stamberg’s storytelling celebrated both the celebrated and the unseen—think of the hidden hands behind the soundscape: voice actors, looper artists, and the many contributors whose work rarely reaches the spotlight.
Legacy and How NPR Remembered Her
Stamberg’s career was marked by resilience in the face of structural barriers for women in media. She not only succeeded in a field that often undervalued female voices but helped NPR grow into a national institution. Her colleagues spoke of a mentor who demanded honesty, a “yenta”—and a guiding force who could be both tough and generous. Her contributions were recognized with honors from the National Radio Hall of Fame and the Hollywood Walk of Fame, among others, and she continued until her retirement in September of the year prior to her passing.
In reflecting on Stamberg’s impact, NPR host Scott Simon recalled her as “the first real human being” to host a regular evening newscast. Her decision to be authentic—“Be yourself”—transformed how audiences heard the news and story-telling in public radio. Stamberg leaves behind a son, actor Josh Stamberg, and granddaughters Vivian and Lena, along with a professional legacy that many attribute to NPR’s enduring voice: intimate, authoritative, and human at its core.
A Voice That Still Speaks Through NPR Elevators
As NPR’s headquarters in Washington, D.C., still echo with her voice greeting visitors on the elevators, Stamberg’s imprint remains. She reminded the world that public radio could be a place where curiosity, candor, and compassion inform the public conversation—an ideal NPR continues to strive toward.
