Mystery House


I’m sad to see Ed Bradley go.  He was exceptionally cool, a rare journalist who didn’t hide his enjoyment of life, who did excellent, intelligent work and who understood how to listen rather than simply fire questions.  I’ve never gotten all emotional about the passing of a journalist before, but 65 was just too damn soon for him to go, and I regret that I never wrote to tell him how much respect I had for his work.

That’s a mistake I make too often.  Why is it that I put off telling people–even people I don’t know personally–when something they’ve done touches me?  I try.  I do write letters to authors and artists whose work hits me hard but I could, and should, make it a point to do even more than I do.  Because none of us, no matter how talented or famous or successful, ever hears that our work matters too many times, do we?

So thank you, Mr. Bradley.  My family and I will miss you.


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