While growing up on Detroit’s west side, Tonya Mosley was drawn to journalism by such luminaries as local TV news anchors Bill Bonds and Carmen Harlan and multi-hyphenate sportswriter Mitch Albom. “I wanted to be Mitch Albom more than anybody because he had his own radio show; he had a column in the newspaper; he had a segment on FOX 2,” she says. “He had the freedom within his journalism to do so many things.”
Terry Gross, the legendary Fresh Air host who, in April 2023, asked Mosley to be her first official co-host, was not among her early inspirations. After discovering Gross while at the University of Missouri, however, she became “very much enthralled.”
Still, it was a long road to becoming Fresh Air’s co-host. Mosley’s first professional job was at a TV station in Saginaw in 1999. She began diversifying in 2012 as the creator and host of a four-part series on Black life for Seattle’s public radio station. By 2019, she was co-host of the NPR show Here & Now and launched her podcast, Truth Be Told.
Mosley spoke to Hour Detroit about Fresh Air, Detroit, and how she combines the two. One thing she demurs to: whether she’s the anointed successor to Gross, 74. “Terry is ‘Fresh Air’,” she says. “She’s not going anywhere anytime soon. The audience can be assured of that. I know I’m not really answering your question. It’s smart to have the audience become used to me, but who knows what the future holds?”
The following conversation was edited for space and clarity.
Terry Gross is an NPR icon. Is it daunting to be her co-host?
Oh, it’s been such an honor. I’m really finding my style and my approach. When you step into a role that has been inhabited by one person for so long, it takes a moment to find your voice, even if you’ve been developing it in another medium for a number of years.
Was there audience pushback?
I’ve had lots of reactions. People who followed me from my podcast and through my journalism were very excited to see the true breadth of Tonya. But I have received some pushback. It’s not surprising because public media is the same medium that continued to have reruns of Car Talk on for 20 years after one of the hosts died. Change is not something that this audience is used to or wants. The core audience of Fresh Air is, on average, 62 years old. I have to think about serving them as well as about my generation and younger, who I want to bring along.
Do you feel you must represent Detroit?
I feel it. I’ve felt that all my life. I do feel a responsibility to show the excellence that comes from Detroit and Michigan. I’m telling people all the time I’m one of several public media hosts from Michigan. You’ve got [1A host] Jenn White; you’ve got [It’s Been a Minute podcaster] Brittany Luse — all these wonderful journalists.
How do you and [Gross] decide who does a story?
We choose what we’re going to do. We are offered pitches and sometimes we say, “Oh yeah, I like that.” But by and large, we choose who we’re going to interview, and we craft our own conversations. I bring more Detroit and the Midwest into what we do. I just had a conversation around college students being deported. I talked with a reporter who spent lots of time in Dearborn during the presidential campaign.
Tell me about your Detroit roots.
I was born on the east side right at the border with Hamtramck, but we moved when I was nine to Seven Mile in the Southfield Freeway area. That’s where I grew up, where my mom and my grandmother still live, where I went to elementary, middle, and high school. I went to Redford High School, which is no longer there. So many places are no longer there.
Were you eager to get out, or did you just go where the winds of journalism took you?
A combination of both. I grew up knowing I always wanted to leave to explore the world, and I knew very early I was going to be a journalist. I also grew up in the ’80s and ’90s when Detroit was pretty violent. I saw a lot and knew about a lot. At the same time, my goal was always to come back. But of course, life takes you in different directions.
How do you feel about how Detroit has changed?
You know, about a year ago I stayed downtown, and as I’m out walking, it hit me on a very emotional level, around a block from 321 Lafayette where the Detroit Free Press building was, that this is not my city anymore. I mean, I claim it. I claim it everywhere I go, and it’s not a bad thing that it’s not my city anymore. But it has turned over in such a way that there are elements of it that I no longer identify with.
What did you see that told you that?
Well, 321 Lafayette is going to be high-rise condos! I saw all the restaurants and mostly the people, all these white people walking through downtown. Guys jogging with their earbuds — they don’t even care; they’re not worried about their safety. I’m like, “Wow, this city is has really changed.” And then in my neighborhood, the change is much slower, but the streets are paved, and there are parking meters. Those are small but significant changes. This place, for a long time, was just stagnation and decline. So there’s something bittersweet but beautiful about it.
This story originally appeared in the February 2026 issue of Hour Detroit magazine. To read more, pick up a copy of Hour Detroit at a local retail outlet. Click here to get our digital edition.
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