Ridah Larry passed away on Friday, Sept. 13.
Ridah first hired me as a stringer sight unseen. I first met him in Paris, where I was then based. I was nervous, influenced by stories about Saudis. Meeting him at his hotel near the Champs Elysees, I found him waiting in the lobby.
“Ridah, why aren’t you in your hotel room?” I asked, puzzled.
His response cinched our friendship. “Because you reserved a room. I can’t host you in a room. I’m waiting for a suite.”
Thanks to him, I interviewed Israelis during peace talks. Ridah said: “If they’ve come to the peace table, then we must be willing to hear what they have to say.”
After a series of my interviews with Israelis, Ridah got a call and was told: “Fire Barbara. She’s a Zionist.”
One doesn’t disagree with such orders, except for Ridah. He called me and said: “Congratulations. You’re on vacation until further notice.”
Once the dust settled, he called me back to work.
Ridah made sure there was never any animosity among his reporters. He called us colleagues, and refused to refer to himself as the boss.
Like Ridah, his sense of humor was unique. He liked to call and deadpan: “How is your slave?”
“PRINCE! Ridah, how many times do I have to tell you I treat my husband like a PRINCE!!!?”
“Nonsense,” said Ridah. “No wife treats her husband like a prince; we are all slaves to you women.”
I was honored to know his family, from his mother to his grandchildren.
He had a sharp tongue and it got him into trouble. During a press briefing with then-Egyptian President Sadat, Ridah hammered him with questions. Frustrated, Sadat finally shouted: “Ikhras (shut up) ya Ridah!”
His kindness was legendary. He called once asking for help with a new maid he just collected at the airport. She hadn’t stopped crying since she set eyes on him. “Please speak to her and let her know she’ll be okay,” he pleaded.
He was proud of his country. Whenever we would talk politics, he would say: “Better a monarchy than a military regime or an Islamist government.”
I regret we never had the chance to talk about the current state of the Arab world.
On Sept. 13, I helped carry his coffin, even if it was in spirit.
Ridah Larry’s kindness was legendary



