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Peter Breslow

Two-time Peabody Award-winner Peter Breslow is a senior producer for NPR's newsmagazine Weekend Edition. He has been with the program since 1992. Prior to that, he was a producer for NPR's All Things Considered.

Breslow has reported and produced from around the country and the world --from Mt. Everest to the South Pole. During his career he has covered conflicts in close to a dozen countries, had his microphone splattered with rattlesnake venom, and played hockey underwater. For six years, he was the supervising senior producer of Weekend Edition Saturday, managing that program's news coverage.

Over the years, Breslow has been honored with three Overseas Press Club awards: 1989 for "Homecoming: Return to Vietnam," 1998 for "Israel at 50," and 1999 for NPR's Kosovo coverage. Among his other awards are a share of the 2002 Alfred I. duPont-Columbia University Award for NPR's coverage of Sept. 11 and the war in Afghanistan, and the 2003 duPont-Columbia Award for NPR's coverage of the war in Iraq. He also received a William Benton Fellowship in Broadcast Journalism from the University of Chicago.

In 1988, Breslow won a coveted Peabody Award for his series of reports, "Cowboys on Everest." Microphone in hand, he joined members of the Wyoming Centennial Expedition as they scaled the snow and ice up 23,000 feet on Mount Everest's North Ridge. He was also part of the NPR team that was awarded a Peabody in 2014 for coverage of the Ebola epidemic in Africa.

A native of River Edge, New Jersey, Breslow plays the harmonica, worships Muddy Waters, is a graduate of the University of Massachusetts, and an Eagle Scout.

Copyright 2019 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org.

SCOTT SIMON, HOST:

Each summer for the last two decades, Jim Parker has readied his small whale watch boat, and made a business out of ferrying tourists out into the cool blue waters of the Gulf of Maine.

For years, it was steady work. The basin brimmed with species that whales commonly feed on, making it a natural foraging ground for the aquatic giants. Whales would cluster at certain spots in the gulf, providing a reliable display for enchanted visitors to the coastal community of Milbridge, Maine.

Copyright 2019 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org.

LARCH HANSON: I tore down a barn and recycled it. I have a cabin with a glass wall to the south.

LULU GARCIA-NAVARRO, HOST:

With an olive-green body encasing three jaws, each lined with more than 50 teeth, it looks like a cigarette-sized relative of the skin-crawling creature from the Alien films. Actually, it's far less sinister: a new species of a bloodsucking leech.

Anna Phillips, the curator of parasitic worms at the Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C., led the team that recently discovered Macrobdella mimicus in almost their own backyard.

Between their formation in 2001 and last album in 2014, guitarist Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney released eight LPs as The Black Keys and became household names with songs like "Tighten Up" and "Fever." When the duo took a break from recording and touring after years and years on the road, rumors flew that the two men had had a falling out.

According to the band, the truth is much simpler: "It was about time," Auerbach says. "We needed a little bit of normalcy."

Quinn Christopherson was named winner of 2019's Tiny Desk Contest and although the contest only has one winner, there were many impressive and touching performances submitted for the judges' consideration by the 6,000-plus contestants. This summer, Weekend Edition is highlighting some of the stand-out entries.

Louis Armstrong has served as the focus of many works of literature. Now, a few seconds of old film that appear to feature Armstrong as a teenage boy have captivated jazz journalist James Karst. If Karst's theory is correct, the clip from 1915 shows Armstrong at a turning point in his early life — years before he became famous and eventually legendary around the world.

A new generation of migrants is arriving in Mexico: young adults who were born in Mexico, raised in the United States and are now returning — some voluntarily, some by force — to the country of their birth. They've been dubbed "Generation 1.5."

With only limited support available from the Mexican government for these often well-educated returnees, several nongovernmental organizations and at least one private company are looking to help them out and take advantage of their skills.

When 29-year-old Gilberto Olivas-Bejarano first returned to his birth country of Mexico, he didn't speak the native language.

"I barely speak Spanish now," he says.

He arrived in León alone, and today, nearly two years since his deportation, Olivas-Bejarano has still not seen his parents or siblings in person.

This is a story about something that didn't happen. A movie that was never made. It was supposed to be a collaboration between the Surrealist artist Salvador Dalí and the Marx Brothers.

You had to have lingered long after watching an action movie to spot Mimi Lesseos' credit. But, eventually, her name pops up.

It's a small reward for getting decapitated by a helicopter blade on AMC's Fear the Walking Dead, or having her lights punched out in Clint Eastwood's boxing movie, Million Dollar Baby.

On a sunny, late-September afternoon in the garden of a guesthouse in Kabul, just beyond the armed guard at the iron gate, a couple of girls are tuning up for guitar practice. All headscarves and concentration, they stretch tentative fingers along the strings. Their teacher, a 56-year-old musician from Los Angeles named Lanny Cordola, sports own head covering, a green doo-rag holding in check a graying ponytail that drifts down the middle of his back.

It is April Fools Day 2011 and Jimmy Chin, the renowned adventure photographer and filmmaker, is shooting a couple of professional snowboarders in the Teton Range in Wyoming. This is one of the first really warm days of the spring season and so there is a lot of action in the snowpack. It is the kind of day where the risk of avalanche is high enough that everyone has their antennae up. But all three men are expert mountaineers who know how to read the conditions.

After college, I spent some years wandering on the cheap around South America, ending up teaching English in Rio de Janeiro. Eventually, I left Rio and headed to northeast Brazil meeting up with an old girlfriend who flew in from the U.S. We had plans to continue on to Belem at the mouth of the Amazon and then travel the length of the river to Colombia.

But everything fell apart very quickly. First, while camping with her on a beach, my passport and all my hard-earned cash from Rio were stolen. Next, I came down with hepatitis and was incapacitated for a month.

In 1982, when I washed up on NPR's doorstep looking for a job, I started a pickup basketball game. It endures to this day. That's right, we are in our 33rd season, which makes me too old to still be playing ... and yet, somehow, I still am.

Sometimes you can tell a lot about a country just by walking its beaches. That's what I did on my last day in Freetown, the capital of Sierra Leone, where I was on assignment covering the Ebola epidemic.

Standing at water's edge, facing the sea. The smooth blue rollers come splashing in, steady, hypnotic — like oceans anywhere in the world.

On a recent day, just west of Kabul — where the city's sooty sky gives way to fresher air — Abdul Sadiq coaches four young members of the Afghan National Cycling Federation. They're working on their riding technique while dodging the free-form traffic.

"The road is very narrow. Make sure you don't get into an accident, as you can see the cars are coming," the former competitive cyclist tells them, amid zooming vehicles and honking horns.