A few days ago, I heard an interview with National Public Radio’s Diane Rehm; this auturmn, she will celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of The Diane Rehm Show.  I don’t know if you’re familiar with the great Ms. Rehm, but her two million listeners consider her a national treasure. 

In 1973, Rehm—then a young housewife— turned up to volunteer at her local Washington, D.C. public radio station; instead, she was bustled into the studio to substitute for the sick-at-home host of The Home Show.  History was made: Rehm soon went from discussing recipes and homier fare to interviewing Nobel laureates, presidents, and movie stars; her studio guest book likely rivals the White House’s.

Rehm is adored first and foremost for her brilliance, but I dare say that she is equally treasured for her voice. Ten years ago, Rehm was diagnosed with a condition in which the vocal cords constrict and speech becomes strained; her voice slowed to an alto drawl.  This change understandably took a toll on Rehm’s confidence; as she said in the interview above, she constantly worries that first-time listeners will hear her and exclaim, “What is that woman doing on the air? I can’t stand her voice.”

She then made a heartbreaking admission: “I don’t love my voice. That’s the hard part. I don’t love my voice anymore.”

This brought tears to my eyes.  You see, unlike Rehm, I really do love her voice.  In our fast-talking, speed-loving culture, Rehm’s voice is one of the most reassuring sounds one can imagine; it is familiar, measured, authoritative, and soothing all at once.

Years ago, when I moved to Washington, D.C., I didn’t know a soul and had taken a fiercely competitive job; I was totally in over my head at first.  Plus, I had just moved back to the States after living abroad for years and was going through a nasty bout of culture shock.  On weekends, I would wander the marble halls of the National Gallery alone, and on weekday mornings, before I went to work, I would listen to Diane Rehm.  These were my two solaces during this intensely lonely time: silent art and Diane Rehm’s voice.

Ms. Rehm, I hope you come to love your voice again.  It has been very meaningful to so many, myself included.

- lmmb