Let's capture some of why we loved Wilke so much. As one friend of his put it:

"...write up an anecdote – some story where they watched Wilke build up into righteous anger when reporting a story... or ironing out a crease in the fabric of the Journal bureau... And someone should talk about him tearing up when he described taking his kid to college…..Or when he became nearly inconsolable when the anthrax story came back and cost him two fantastic seats at the Nats-Mets game. Describe a time he filled in for people, picked up their loads for them, counseled them, slipped them incredible sources, shared bylines... that will keep him alive and you (and the rest of us) afloat."

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The Greatest

Few things in life were more delightful than hanging out with Wilke and his posse. Few things were as soul satisfying than figuring out ways to vex and bedevil corporate America with Wilke. When I told him about 6 years ago that I was leaving my corporate-bashing job to go work for the man, he was forgiving and, I think, delighted that I might prove a useful source from deep inside the belly of the beast.

There’s nothing more I can add to what’s already been said about what a truly wonderful man Wilke was. But I will make several solemn vows in his honor:

1. I will deface Yankee Stadium for him when I go tomorrow night.

2. I will drink more beer.

3. I will continue to leak like a sieve.

-- Victoria Bassetti

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