My hero died last week.
Ben Bradlee passed away quietly at his home at the wise old age of 93.
That was likely the only thing Bradlee ever did quietly. As a reporter and then as a newspaper editor, Bradlee aggressively and fearlessly pursued stories, challenged his publishers and stood by his reporters.
He was the editor's editor, both a brave journalist and a passionate newsroom boss.
Bradlee was the editor of the Washington Post when Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein won the Pulitizer Prize for their coverage of the Watergate scandal that eventually destroyed the presidency of Richard Nixon. Jason Robards won an Academy Award for perfectly capturing Bradlee's cautious but unwavering support of his reporters in the movie All The President's Men.
Bradlee had already upset the Washington political establishment a couple of years earlier when he followed the lead of the New York Times and began publishing excerpts from the Pentagon Papers, the classified secret history of America's involvement in Vietnam.
That episode hardened both Bradlee and his boss, Katherine Graham, who became the Post's publisher after the suicide of her husband. As Graham recounted in her autobiography Personal History (itself a Pulitizer Prize winner), she took a deep breath and backed Bradlee's faith in his two young reporters investigating what started as a simply a story about a burglary at the national headquarters of the Democratic Party Committee. Bradlee was confident in his news team but he also worked them hard and challenged them to find more sources, more documentation, anything that would get them to the bottom of the story.
Bradlee was wisely dismissive of accolades, even though the Post won 18 Pulitizers under his watch. He wrote in his own memoirs that newspapers in general and editors in particular are not deserving of awards. That recognition belongs to the reporters hustling in the field, earning the trust and respect of their contacts.
He wasn't the perfect editor.
One of those Pultizers was taken back in 1981 after it was revealed that the reporter had fabricated the key source in her story. Bradlee applied the same sense of responsibility he demanded of his reporters and editors to himself, offering his resignation because of the transgression. Donald Graham, Katherine's son and her replacement as publisher, refused Bradlee's offer.
Bradlee was proud of his many accomplishments but deeply regretted his many mistakes, calling the 1981 Pulitzer fiasco the cross he would always bear. He knew his words and his decisions affected people's lives, so he devoted himself to always improving himself as an editor and as a leader. He was as widely known for his gruff, hard-charging manner as a boss as he was for his personal warmth and charm.
What never changed was Bradlee's loyalty, to the people who helped him rise through the ranks at Newsweek and the Post, to the Graham family who supported his vision and to his newsroom staff, for challenging themselves and him, as well.
Like his boss, he refused to be bullied, whether it was by representatives of the Post's union guilds or by officials from the White House. He stood by his decisions, he stood by his publisher and he stood by his staff, even when he disagreed with them, especially when he disagreed with them.
I never met Bradlee but I read extensively about him. I admired his commitment to journalism and to democracy and political accountability. His career is a constant reminder that this work means something, that telling stories and offering opinions to readers is a wonderful profession and that both great good and terrible harm can come from pursuing that responsibility.
In an age where heroes are few and those left fail the test under closer scrutiny, Ben Bradlee was a hero and an inspiration.
He will be missed.
