BOB LAW: A VOICE THAT MATTERED
An OUR COMMON GROUND Salute
I learned only recently that Bob Law, pioneering Black talk host and activist, had made his transition. He died on Monday, March 30, 2026, at age 86.
That news stopped me.
Bob was more than a broadcasting colleague. He was my mentor, my friend, my brother in the work, and for years one of the voices with whom I shared the responsibility of trying to make Black America hear itself clearly.
During the WPOM years of OUR COMMON GROUND, Bob joined me every Wednesday. Those were not simply guest appearances. They were continuing conversations between two Black talkers trying to understand what was happening to our people, what forces were moving around us, and what we needed to know in order to respond.
Bob understood the power of Black radio.
He understood that owning the microphone was important—but owning the means by which our voices reached our people was even more important.
For nearly two years, Bob and I worked on a plan to acquire small Black radio stations around the country and bring them together into a network of Black talk radio—stations through which independent Black voices could speak nationally and locally, with programming that included NightTalk, OUR COMMON GROUND, and other powerful Black talk voices of that era.
We did not succeed in bringing that vision to fruition. But the vision mattered.
We understood that Black people needed more than occasional access to somebody else’s microphone. We needed infrastructure. We needed ownership. We needed a communications system capable of carrying Black thought, Black analysis, and Black political conversation from community to community.
Bob Law understood that perhaps better than anyone I knew. He was brave. He was smart. He was serious.
And he was a warrior for Black people. At a time when much of mainstream corporate media was unwilling—or unable—to speak plainly about what was happening in America, Bob did.
He amplified the issues confronting Black America when those issues were inconvenient, unpopular, or simply invisible to those who controlled the larger media platforms. That is what Black talk radio did.
We sounded alarms.
We talked about power. We talked about race. We talked about politics and economics. We talked about what was happening inside our communities and what was being done to them. And we talked with each other so that we could understand what we were seeing, trust what we knew, and become confident about what we needed to do.
Talk That Matters.
Looking at America today, I am reminded how much those voices mattered—and how much America might have learned had it listened more carefully to Black talk radio. Bob was one of those voices.
As I prepare to bring OUR COMMON GROUND back to the microphone, it means something very different to know that my friend will not be there for another Wednesday conversation or a quick review or sage advice. But his voice is part of the ground upon which we return. His work is part of the history we must preserve. And his insistence that Black people must have the means to speak to one another, for ourselves and in our own interests remains unfinished business. NY listeners and activists were so fortunate to have him.