When the University of North Carolina inducted Carl Kasell of National Public Radio (NPR) into its journalism hall of fame in 2004, he joined a list of distinguished names that includes David Brinkley, Charles Kuralt and, more recently, Charlie Rose, all best known for their work on television.

Not Carl Kasell: "I've been a radio guy since the git-go, starting out while I was still in high school at a station in my hometown of Goldsboro [N.C.]. I met Charles Kuralt in the mid-1950s when we both took radio and TV courses at UNC, but our careers took slightly different paths," recalls Kasell, who this year celebrates 30 years at NPR. "Charlie was more interested in print journalism—he became the editor of "The Daily Tar Heel"—and I was already hooked on radio."

In 1965, Kasell took a job as a disc jockey at WPIK, a small station in Alexandria, Va., playing "country and western, pops, and in the mid-morning what was called 'music for the housewives.'" To supplement his income, he took a weekend job at WAVA, an early "all-news" station in nearby Arlington, and found that to his liking. In 1967 he "left the records behind" to join WAVA full time as an announcer, eventually moving up to news director.

"And then I got a call [in 1975] from a friend working at this new outfit called National Public Radio, who said they needed a part-time newscaster for 'Weekend All Things Considered.' I took that, went full-time in 1979, and have been here ever since."

Over the past three decades, Kasell has become one of the best-known members of the NPR family. In addition to his role (since 1977) as the newscaster on "Morning Edition," he is also the official judge and scorekeeper on NPR's weekly quiz show, "Wait Wait…Don't Tell Me!" an eclectic mixture of information, news and comedy. Host Peter Sagal fields answers from listeners, guests and members of a "panel of three experts" drawn from a group that includes comedian Paula Poundstone, Mo Rocca (former correspondent for "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart"), humorists P.J. O'Rourke and Roy Blount, Jr., and journalists Roxanne Roberts and Charlie Pierce. One of the show's staples is "Who's Carl This Time?" in which Kasell impersonates that week's quotable celebrity.

Let the envious be warned: Since 1979, Carl Kasell's work day has stretched from 2:00 a.m. to his final newscast at 11:00 a.m. He says that from the beginning, determined to spend time with his first wife, Clara, and their son, Joseph, he would sleep for three to three-and-a-half hours each afternoon, have dinner and visit with them, and then grab another nap later in the evening. Clara died of cancer in 1997; with Joseph married and living in Northern Virginia, he could have altered his routine, but by then was so used to it he didn't bother.

"There's the newscast family, and then there's the staff of 'Wait Wait…Don't Tell Me!' and they're a real hoot." (A prime example: When a female caller from Kentucky enthused over Kasell, panelist Mo Rocca replied, "Carl Kasell is a god. When we've done live shows, he walks out on the stage first. When he starts speaking and everyone recognizes the voice, women in their forties and fifties revert to their former teeny-boppers-at-the-Beatles-concert selves. They fling their tote bags aside—most of which have stray bananas mingled in with New Yorkers and Nations—and go nuts.")

All of those NPR families, large and small, showed up from various parts of the country in May 2003, when Kasell married widowed psychotherapist Mary Ann Foster, a native Washingtonian. They'd met in London at the wedding of "Morning Edition" producer Barry Gordemer. Peter Sagal officiated at a non-traditional ceremony; Cokie Roberts, Rocca and Bob Edwards (then still with NPR) were among the witnesses.

Long a fan of all sorts of radio shows, from quizzes and comedies to Saturday morning programs for kids, Kasell counts among his greatest thrills the time he met and had a long conversation with Fred Foy, the longest-running announcer/narrator on "The Lone Ranger." What Kasell likes so much about his current work on the air, especially with the quiz program, is that he is once again doing what he grew up in the business doing. While Kasell and his friend Charles Kuralt acted in a number of radio dramatizations at UNC, he says he never really caught the performing bug. Announcing the major news events of the day for five decades has always been enough excitement for him, he says, citing especially the fall of communism in 1991, the Challenger disaster, the bombing in Oklahoma City and 9/11.

Being a radio personality makes it easier for Carl Kasell to enjoy his privacy, but from time to time he is surprised to learn that he and his mellifluous voice are recognized. Begun as a gimmick when the show's budgetary cupboard was bare, the most coveted prize on "Wait Wait" has become Kasell's voice on your answering machine. The winner writes the copy, and Kasell gives the reading his professional best. "That has blossomed and ballooned into the biggest thing," Kasell says. "It's hard to understand, but everybody seems to want 'the message,' and I have done hundreds over the past few years. They have me do anything from a straight message to singing a song or reciting a limerick and answering as if I were [their] cat!"

Retirement? Kasell answers the question with a story. "About 10 years ago in Boston I was on a program with the Smothers Brothers, and when I told Dickie I thought they'd have retired by now, he said, 'Retire is what people do from work. I don't call this work.' That's just how I feel about what I do."