Biography: Edmond Wroe Freeman III, the former longtime publisher of the Pine Bluff Commercial and a newsman admired for his civility, courage, and dedication to journalistic excellence, died May 3 at his home in Little Rock. He was 94.

Under his guidance, the Commercial garnered national attention for its principled stand against school segregation during the Jim Crow era and for playing a decisive role in the ultimately successful effort to prevent development of the Buffalo River, which in 1972 was designated America's first National River. Wielding a red grease pencil and exhibiting a fierce determination to get the words just right, Edmond edited a series of editorials on civil rights for which the paper's editorial page editor, Paul Greenberg, was awarded the 1969 Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing. It was a distinct honor for such a small newspaper.

Paul and Edmond were close friends and collaborators for decades, crafting countless editorials on everything from small-town politics to foreign relations. In a televised interview, Paul once recalled telling two other editors that the Commercial was fortunate to have a publisher who was also an editor-only to be corrected, Paul said, by a colleague who instead labeled Edmond an editor who was also a publisher. "Both of you guys are wrong," Paul recalled the third man saying. "The Commercial is lucky because it has an editor who's a real editor."

Edmond is survived by his wife of 70 years, June Biber Freeman, and their four children and their spouses: Andrew Freeman (Joyce Freeman); Gretchen Freeman (Alan Silverman); David Freeman (Ellen Kunes); and Eric Freeman (Rachel Miller). He also leaves behind six grandchildren and one great-grandchild. He is mourned by friends and former colleagues as well as many journalists he mentored and whose careers he helped launch.

Edmond's great-grandfather founded the Commercial in 1881. The Freeman family published the paper until 1986, when it was sold. In retirement, Edmond worked along with June to support a range of charities and institutions focused on the arts, architecture, healthcare, and education.

Edmond traveled extensively and always with a sense of adventure. He sailed aboard a Russian icebreaker to the North Pole. On another trip, he visited South Georgia Island off Antarctica. He attended bullfights in Spain, climbed pyramids in Mexico, and held hands with an orangutan in Borneo. Between trips, he indulged his lifelong passion for reading. His home office was lined with hundreds of books on topics ranging from poetry, philosophy, ancient civilizations, science, and mathematics to history and literature. He delighted in reciting works by A.E. Housman, Edward Arlington Robinson, and Edna St. Vincent Millay, among others. On the wall of Edmond's home hung a framed parchment bearing a passage rendered in calligraphy from "Special Delivery: A Packet of Replies" by James Branch Cabell, a writer a young Edmond greatly admired. It was a gift from June.

The son of E.W. Freeman, Jr., and Elizabeth Councill Freeman, Edmond was born on May 31, 1926. He attended public schools in Pine Bluff and completed the requirements for Eagle Scout at age 12, though the Scouts made him wait until age 13 to receive his rank. Following graduation from Pine Bluff High School in 1943, he spent a year at The Citadel in South Carolina before entering the U.S. Naval Academy, from which he graduated in 1947. After a stint in the Navy, during which the young lieutenant served aboard an aircraft carrier in the Pacific, he studied philosophy at the University of Chicago. There he met June, impressing her with his ability to recite poetry from memory as well as his intelligence and good looks. At their 1950 wedding in Chicago, Edmond-who had been captain of the gymnastics team at the Naval Academy-surprised his new in-laws when he removed his suit coat and executed a standing back somersault.

Edmond joined the Commercial as a reporter in 1951, ultimately succeeding his father as publisher. He and his brother, Armistead, who co-managed the Commercial, steadily built its reputation and those of two newspapers the brothers acquired in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, and Yazoo City, Mississippi.

Edmond was known for his sensitivity and kindness. A self-described introvert, he nonetheless had a special gift for friendship. He spent a lifetime in spoken and written conversation with classmates, shipmates, and colleagues as well as friends and members of his far-flung family. His quick mind and formidable intellect made him a great conversationalist, equally adept at navigating a spirited debate and sharing a funny story. In short, he was a great talker. But despite suffering hearing loss that ultimately rendered him deaf in one ear and nearly deaf in the other, he was an even better listener. Those who came into his presence could count on being heard and understood. That was one reason people gravitated to him and why friendships that might have been fleeting endured for decades.

If Edmond enjoyed quiet time indoors, he also loved spending time in nature. In the 1960s, he took up canoeing and, with June and their children, was a frequent paddler on the Buffalo, Caddo, Eleven Point, Mulberry, and other streams. During one frigid February in the late 1960s, he and a friend spent two days on the Buffalo; while camping in an improvised tent after the first day on the water, he woke up and looked at the cloudless night sky expecting to see stars-but instead saw only blackness. He thought he had gone blind until he realized his vision had been obscured by a cap that he had pulled down over his face in an effort to stay warm in the 14-degree weather. It was the sort of funny, self-deprecating story that he loved to tell.

Edmond also loved hiking and mountaineering. Twice he climbed Mount Whitney, the highest mountain in the contiguous U.S. In 1986, at the age of 60, he reached the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest peak. He climbed Japan's Mount Fuji in 2005 and hiked Havasu Canyon in Arizona in 2010. He was then 84. He worked hard to maintain his physical fitness as he grew older; well into his ninety-fifth year and feeling the effects of the cancer that ultimately took his life, he continued working out with his longtime personal trainer, winning admiration from younger people for his strength, stamina, and can-do attitude.

In his last days, Edmond called and emailed friends to let them know about what he called, with typical understatement, his "situation." He didn't complain. He wasn't seeking sympathy. (His greatest fear was that he wouldn't have time to read all the books he wanted to read.) Instead, he thanked his friends for all they had done for him and what they had meant to him. The remarkable conversations that ensued-difficult as they were given his poor hearing-buoyed his spirits and made the bonds of friendship and mutual admiration even stronger. As one old friend he reconnected with just days before his death wrote in a letter to Edmond, "If I say that you have been, for quite some time, one of my heroes, one of the models of how to live a life that I have tried to learn from, that does not mean that I am too awed to think of you as a friend. Truly, getting to know a little bit of your mind and thinking has been one of the deep pleasures of my life."

In lieu of flowers, the family suggests that contributions be made to St. John's College of Annapolis, MD, and Santa Fe, NM. Donations can be made [https://community.stjohnscollege.edu/giving] or via checks mailed to St. John's College, Box 75905, Baltimore, MD 21275-5905. Donors can designate their gifts to the Edmond W. Freeman III Scholarship Fund.  Arrangements are under the direction of Ruebel Funeral Home, RuebelFuneralHome.com