Before I ever met Marjorie, I fell in love with the sound of her voice. I was the Christian Science Monitor’s art director, and one afternoon in late 2002, everyone in the Boston newsroom assembled for an awards ceremony. When it came time to present an education writing award to Marjorie Coeyman, who was working in the Monitor’s Manhattan office, a phone call was placed, and suddenly a lovely, clear, oh so mellifluous voice came through on a speakerphone placed in the midst of the newsroom. She took no personal credit for the award, graciously giving props to everyone else on the education team. The poise and humility she expressed was a clinic in how to be a gracious team player. I was instantly smitten. I simply had to meet this woman! Fortunately for me, she soon came to Boston to fill in for an editor who was off on a fellowship. And she was every bit as lovely, gracious, humble, kind and good-humored as her voice portended. I fell like a ton of bricks. No — two tons! We married seven months later.