What it was like to meet Ben Bradlee

By the time I got to the Washington Post, in 2009, Ben Bradlee had retired. But he hadn't left. You would see Bradlee in the cafeteria, eating lunch with Walter Pincus. You would see him stalking the halls. You would see him in the elevator, headed to a higher floor than you were. He was in his 90s, but he still looked like Ben Bradlee. He still sounded like Ben Bradlee. He reminded you that you were in a house built by your betters, that this was a place where real journalism got done, where legends still roamed. It made you feel like you were part of something, and you had better damn live up to it. Bradlee made a lot of people feel like they were part of something.
By Ezra Klein/ continue