I once met Ed Bradley in early 1998 at a book party at a townhouse on the Upper East Side (in NYC).
I ended up in a conversation with him and another much-respected, history-making journalist of color, Charlayne Hunter-Gault. The three of us stood there having a most excellent chat. Charlayne was telling us about South Africa, where I believe she was either living or had been spending a great deal of time. It was quite impressive to meet her after having watched her on television for so many years. What I remember most about that night, though, was how awed I was to be in Ed Bradley’s presence. He was tall, very tall, strong-limbed, and very, very handsome. I recall looking at his earring. I couldn’t believe I was having a conversation with someone I’d had such admiration for.
He was a great man who made great strides for African Americans and society at-large.
Ed Bradley was one of our jewels. Sunday nights at 7pm will never be the same.