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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I know lots of people have testified to how great Wilke was as a reporter, as a journalist, and as a friend. Let me just add, as a supposed competitor on the Microsoft case, he kicked everybody's rear end all the way down Pennsylvania Avenue past the DoJ and the courthouse and beyond. We all paled in comparison. Especially this reporter at the Financial Times. I used to dread picking up the Journal every morning to see another outstanding Wilke story. His work was bulletproof. And insightful, contextual, original. He was quite simply the best news reporter I ever met.

And after beating everyone in the field, he had the outrageous decency, good humor and generosity to be great company at the end of the day. In fact, he was great company at the start of the day, and during Judge Jackson's many coffee breaks, and at lunchtime too. He didn't engage in the normal journalistic showmanship that plagues Washington; he didn't need to. He was the best and we all knew it.

Richard Wolffe

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