Charles van Heck's Woodhull Journal

I fell in love with her voice.  A raspy voice, the type of voice that made me want to pull up a chair at the kitchen table. “Have some cranberry relish,” she might be saying, as she did every Thanksgiving. And if you closed your eyes, you could imagine her passing a bowl.

Susan had that New York voice, upper Westside of Manhattan to be precise. Her voice differed from the flat midwestern voice used by news reporters that may or may not have been established by Walter Cronkite. When Susan began in the business, the news was presented by deep voices, octaves lower than hers. Think of Lorene Greene with his rich, deep, authoritative voice that earned him the nicknames “The Voice of Doom” and “The Voice of Canada” during his tenure at the CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) National News. No one would ever think of giving Susan a “Voice of Doom” moniker. And there were her laugh and giggles. She brought a personal touch that could disarm the person she was interviewing.

Political news, sports, culture, economics, science. All things were to be considered. Who can forget her conversation with Ira Flatow when she asked what happened when you bit down on a Win-O-Green Lifesaver in the dark? Into the closet they went to find out. “I saw it!” She called out from the storage closet where Flatow was crunching down on a mint. “I saw a flash of, kind of, a greenish light just for a fraction of a second.”

Others will recall Susan’s exchange with Milton Friedman, the Nobel Prize-winning economist, when they discussed (argued about) the merits of the free market. Their conversation remains as relevant today as it was nine years ago.

Susan thought covering politics was tedious, uninteresting. She was attentive to connecting listeners to ideas and culture. “I’m a natural schmoozer,” she said of herself. In a 2011 interview with the Jewish Women’s Archive, she said, “I am very sociologically Jewish. Very ethnically Jewish, although not in an observant way. There are a lot of people like me.” She went on to say, “I feel deeply Jewish and I deeply identify with my Jewishness, but it doesn’t need a formal affiliation for me.”

The New York accent, being a woman, and Jewish, set Susan apart when she became the anchor of All Things Considered in 1972. In those days, what differentiated Susan from others was viewed as an obstacle. Her program director, Bill Siemering, knew the risks and the impediments she faced and then looked past them. “Be yourself.” Simple advice. Encouragement.

I arrived home from work one evening. NPR’s All Things Considered was on as we gathered to dine. To my surprise, I heard Susan mention my name and then read a piece I had written for one of the contests they occasionally held in the show’s early days. Years later, she read another piece I had composed. Many others have also heard that husky, New York voice mention their name and then read their words.

She had a way of pulling listeners in, whether she was conversing with President Jimmy Carter, Ray and Tom Magliozzi (of Car Talk fame), Elia Kazan (film director), Rosa Parks (civil rights legend), Fred Rogers (Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood), Billy Crystal (comedian), Joan Didion (author),  New York “Russian” taxi cab drivers, introducing commentary by Bailey White, cooking with the White House chefs, or reading the winners of the “Hanukkah Lights” short-story contest on NPR. She knew how to use words spoken into a radio microphone to create a visual scene. And she knew how to invite us into her “neighborhood,” to be a community of listeners.  

Susan came prepared for interviews. She was an intense listener, allowing for spontaneity in the conversation. I wish younger reporters would learn from her methods. Too often, news anchors give rambling preambles, as if to show off their knowledge and grasp of a story, before turning to the reporter covering the event. You can see, or hear, the reporter’s eyes rolling in their heads. Too often, in response to the anchor, the reporter typically says, “Right,” or “Yeah, that’s exactly it.” Then there are the rapid-fire questions, anywhere from three to four questions rattled off to an interviewee or the reporter. And there are the interruptions, the talking over or through either the reporter or interviewee while they are trying to juggle and respond to multiple questions fired off in rapid succession. Prepared as they are, many of today’s news anchors and reporters aren’t active listeners. They make the news about themselves.

The news media landscape has shifted and changed since that day when Susan entered the booth at NPR to anchor All Things Considered. The world is a different place. Susan, Nina Totenberg, Linda Wertheimer, and Cokie Roberts reshaped the culture of public broadcasting at a time when few women held leading roles in journalism.

Susan regarded her colleagues as members of her community. In an interview, Ari Shapiro asked her about a comment she made every day when leaving the office. “Go home, girls. It’s getting dark.” She would say the same to a room full of men. Tomorrow was another day.

Susan Stamberg died on Thursday, 16th October. She was 87 years old. Thanksgiving meals and Hanukkahs will not be the same.   

May her memory be a blessing.

 Mama Stamberg’s Cranberry Relish

The relish has a tangy taste that cuts through and perks up the turkey and gravy. It’s also good on next-day turkey sandwiches, and with roast beef.

The Recipe’s Origins

As Susan Stamberg has noted, her mother-in-law got the recipe from a 1959 New York Times clipping of Craig Claiborne’s recipe for cranberry relish. In 1993, Claiborne told Stamberg: “Susan, I am simply delighted. We have gotten more mileage, you and I, out of that recipe than almost anything I’ve printed.”

2 cups whole raw cranberries, washed, 1 small onion, 3/4 cup sour cream, 1/2 cup sugar, 2 tbs horseradish from a jar (red is a bit milder than white).  Grind the raw berries and onion together. (I use an old-fashioned meat grinder. I’m sure there’s a setting on the food processor that will give you a chunky grind — not a puree.). Add everything else and mix. Put in a plastic container and freeze. Several hours before serving, move it from the freezer to the refrigerator compartment to thaw. (It should still have some icy slivers left.)

The relish will be thick, creamy, and shocking pink. (“OK, Pepto Bismol pink. It has a tangy taste that cuts through and perks up the turkey and gravy. Its also good on next-day turkey sandwiches, and with roast beef.”)

Makes 1 1/2 pints.

Photograph: William Rudoff/Flickr Creative Commons

Source: Tablet