Susan Stamberg, a trailblazing broadcaster whose voice became synonymous with National Public Radio (NPR) and who broke barriers as the first woman to host a national news program in the United States, died Thursday, October 16, 2025, at the age of 87. Her passing, confirmed by her son Josh Stamberg, marks the end of an era for public radio and for generations of listeners who came to know her as a companion on the airwaves, a mentor to colleagues, and a relentless seeker of stories that connected people across divides.
Stamberg’s journey with NPR began in 1971, at a time when the network itself was just finding its footing as a fledgling operation with grand ambitions to create a new kind of journalism. As reported by NPR, she joined the organization originally to cut tape—literal tape, with a single-sided blade—at a moment when commercial networks almost never hired women for on-air roles. Within a year, in 1972, she was named co-host of NPR’s flagship evening news program, All Things Considered. In doing so, Stamberg shattered a glass ceiling, becoming the first woman to anchor a national nightly news broadcast in the country.
But it wasn’t a straightforward ascent. As Stamberg herself recalled in an oral history interview with Oregon station KLCC, there were no women in broadcast to model herself after. “The only ones on were men, and the only thing I knew to do was imitate them,” she said. She even lowered her voice in an attempt to sound more authoritative, but it was program manager Bill Siemering who encouraged her to be herself. “And that was new too in its day, because everybody else, the women, were trained actors, and so they came with very careful accents and very careful delivery. They weren’t relaxed and natural,” she explained. “So we made a new sound with radio as well, with NPR.”
Her unvarnished style and unmistakable New York accent quickly became hallmarks of the NPR sound. Fellow NPR host Scott Simon described her as “the voice of NPR: quizzical, curious, respectful, and engaging, as she goes from sober assessments of important events into a full-out, ear-ringing belly-laugh, while taking listeners along, like friends on a journey.” NPR CEO Katherine Maher echoed this sentiment, calling Stamberg’s voice "not only a cornerstone of NPR — it was a cornerstone of American life."
Stamberg’s impact extended well beyond her pioneering presence behind the microphone. She coined the phrase "founding mothers" to describe herself and three other women—Cokie Roberts, Nina Totenberg, and Linda Wertheimer—who helped launch NPR and built its reputation for rigorous, thoughtful journalism. “I got tired of hearing about Founding Fathers, and I knew we were not that, so we were obviously Founding Mothers, and I was going to put that on the map,” Stamberg said, according to TheWrap. Her sense of humor and commitment to equality ran through her work, as did her belief in the power of journalism to build connections. As her son Josh shared with NPR, “A true humanitarian, she believed in the power of great journalism. Her life’s work was connection, through ideas and culture.”
For 14 years, Stamberg anchored All Things Considered, leading a small team of five reporters in producing a 90-minute program each day. She interviewed thousands of people, from U.S. presidents to artists, civil rights icons, and even White House chefs. Notable among her many interviews was a two-hour radio call-in program with President Jimmy Carter, broadcast live from the Oval Office in 1979. Stamberg deftly managed unscreened listener questions, creating a direct line between the public and the president—a rare feat in American broadcast history.
Later, she shifted to hosting Weekend Edition Sunday, where she launched the beloved Sunday puzzle segment with Will Shortz, now the crossword editor of The New York Times. Shortz explained that Stamberg wanted the show to be the radio equivalent of a Sunday newspaper, offering news, culture, sports, and, of course, a puzzle. Her vision expanded NPR’s cultural coverage at a time when hard news dominated the airwaves.
Stamberg’s curiosity and tenacity as an interviewer were legendary. In a 1988 interview with film director Elia Kazan, she pressed him on his controversial testimony before the House Un-American Activities Committee, beginning their conversation with the tough questions. “I’ve often asked myself: if it had been a face-to-face interview, would I have been able to be that persistent—and stayed with it? I bet not,” she later told NPR.
Her colleagues remembered her as much for her warmth and mentorship as for her journalistic rigor. According to NPR, she was seen as a yenta, a mentor, and a storyteller who was always tough and true to herself. Linda Wertheimer, one of her fellow "founding mothers," recalled their differences with affection: “Susan and I disagreed about politics. That is to say: I thought it was fantastically interesting. All I wanted to do was cover politics. She thought it was the most boring thing imaginable. She couldn’t think why anyone would want to do that.” Stamberg’s focus instead was on culture, science, and the spark of human creativity—a journalistic lens that helped shape how audiences engaged with the world.
Recognition of Stamberg’s achievements came in many forms. She was inducted into both the Broadcast Hall of Fame and the National Radio Hall of Fame, with the latter praising her “conversational style, intelligence, and knack for finding an interesting story.” In 2020, she received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, a rare honor for a radio journalist. Her recorded voice continues to greet staff and visitors on the elevators at NPR’s Washington, D.C., headquarters—a fitting tribute to someone whose presence defined the network for more than five decades.
Stamberg’s career began in public radio after a stint as a typist at The New Republic in Washington, D.C. She moved on to become program director and general manager at WAMU, NPR’s member station in the capital, before joining the national network. “That’s what women could do in those days… but I got very bored after a while,” she told Current in 2017. Her entry into radio, she said, came "through sheer boredom" and the conviction that a producer was "someone who doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer."
Stamberg retired from NPR in September 2025, leaving behind a simple note to staff: “EASY COME EASY GO. LOVE YOU ALL.” Her legacy, however, is anything but simple. She changed the sound of American radio, opened doors for generations of women in journalism, and reminded listeners that news could be both authoritative and intimate. She is survived by her son, actor Josh Stamberg, and her granddaughters, Vivian and Lena.
Her recorded voice may still announce the floors at NPR, but for many, Susan Stamberg’s true legacy is the path she blazed and the countless stories she inspired others to tell.
