Ask anyone who lived in the Tri-State area between 1980 and 2012 about the "news," and they won't describe a headline. They’ll describe a face. Specifically, they’ll describe Sue Simmons, the sharp-witted, impeccably dressed, and occasionally unpredictable powerhouse who anchored WNBC for over three decades.
She wasn't just a talking head. She was "Sue."
For 32 years, Sue Simmons news anchor was the gold standard of local journalism, forming one half of the longest-running anchor team in New York City history alongside Chuck Scarborough. But then, in 2012, the screens went dark on her career at Channel 4, leaving millions of viewers wondering why a legend making $5 million a year was suddenly shown the door. Honestly, the way it ended still feels a bit like a glitch in the Matrix for long-time New Yorkers.
The Greenwich Village Roots You Didn't Know About
Sue didn't just land in New York; she was forged by it. Born in 1942, she grew up in Greenwich Village during an era when the neighborhood was the heartbeat of the world's jazz scene. Her father, John Simmons, wasn't just some guy with a hobby—he was a legendary jazz bassist who played with the likes of Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, and Art Tatum.
Imagine that childhood.
She didn't take the traditional path of a "serious" journalist. While most modern anchors boast Ivy League degrees, Simmons graduated from Julia Richman High School in 1961 and went straight to work. No college. She just had a natural, raw ability to talk to people and an encyclopedic knowledge of sports that would eventually open the doors to the newsroom.
A Career Built on Resilience
Before she was the queen of 30 Rockefeller Plaza, she was paying her dues in smaller markets:
- WTNH-TV (New Haven): Her first gig as a consumer action reporter.
- WBAL-TV (Baltimore): Where she anchored from 1974 to 1976.
- WRC-TV (Washington, DC): The final stop before the big leagues.
In D.C., she proved her mettle during the 1977 Hanafi Siege, where she was specifically requested by hostage-takers to come to their headquarters. Most people would have folded. Sue called it "pretty routine." That’s the kind of steel she brought to the desk when she finally arrived at WNBC in 1980.
The Chuck and Sue Era: Lightning in a Bottle
When you talk about Sue Simmons, you have to talk about Chuck Scarborough. They were the "Mom and Dad" of New York news. While Chuck was the steady, prepared, and somewhat formal presence, Sue was the fire. She was the one who would "wing it," relying on her quick wit and a massive personality that could fill a room—or a million living rooms.
They weren't just colleagues; they were a brand.
"He’s there as a steadying influence to curtail my craziness at times," Simmons once said of Scarborough. "He just has to look at me with 'the eye' and say, 'It’s not time to play.'"
It worked. They won Emmys together, including one for their coverage of the 1998 Swissair Flight 111 crash. But more importantly, they won the trust of a city that doesn't give its trust away easily.
That "F-Bomb" and the Turning Point
You can't discuss Sue Simmons news anchor without mentioning May 12, 2008. It’s the clip that launched a thousand YouTube views before "going viral" was even a fully formed concept.
During a live news teaser, thinking the mics were off or the segment was taped, Sue barked: "The fuck are you doing?" at a distracted Chuck Scarborough, who was looking at his computer.
She apologized later in the broadcast, but the damage—or the legend, depending on who you ask—was done. While fans loved her even more for the "realness," the corporate suits at NBC (which was then being taken over by Comcast) reportedly weren't as amused. It highlighted her "antics," a word that would come up again when her contract discussions stalled years later.
Why Was She Really Let Go?
In March 2012, the bombshell dropped: WNBC would not be renewing Sue’s contract. She was 70. Chuck, who was the same age, was staying. The outcry was immediate. Fans launched "Save Sue" campaigns on Facebook and Tumblr.
Basically, it boiled down to a few things that usually stay behind closed doors:
- The Salary: At $5 million a year, she was the highest-paid local anchor in the country. In a world of budget cuts, that's a massive target on your back.
- The New Guard: Comcast was looking to "modernize." They wanted anchors who would do more public appearances and promotional work—something Sue reportedly grew tired of.
- The "Sloppiness" Accusation: Some reports suggested management felt she was "phoning it in" or getting lackadaisical. Whether that was true or just ageist corporate-speak is still debated in journalism circles.
On her final night, June 15, 2012, she went out with a bang. She hinted that "someone made a mistake" by letting her go. The station barely gave her enough time for a goodbye, which many viewers found disrespectful for a woman who had given them 32 years of her life.
Where is Sue Simmons Now?
Since leaving the anchor chair, Sue has mostly enjoyed a quiet retirement, though she hasn't vanished entirely. She’s popped up in cameos as herself on Law & Order: SVU and 30 Rock. She even returned to WNBC in 2017 for a heartbreakingly beautiful tribute to the late reporter Gabe Pressman.
More recently, in late 2025, she made a rare public appearance alongside Al Roker and Chuck Scarborough to celebrate Chuck’s induction into the Deadline Club Hall of Fame. At 83, she still has that same spark. To her fans, she remains the quintessential New Yorker: tough, funny, and entirely authentic.
What We Can Learn From Her Career
Sue Simmons’ journey isn't just a nostalgia trip; it’s a masterclass in personal branding and professional longevity.
- Authenticity wins: In an industry of scripts, her "candid moments" made her human.
- Partnership matters: Find your "Chuck"—someone who balances your energy.
- Know your worth: She never apologized for being the highest-paid person in the room.
If you’re looking to dive deeper into the history of New York media, start by watching her final sign-off or her interview on the Joy Behar Show. They capture a version of television news that simply doesn't exist anymore—one where the person behind the desk was just as important as the news they were delivering.
Next Steps for You: Check out local archives or YouTube tributes to "Chuck and Sue" to see the chemistry that defined an era. If you’re a budding journalist, study her ad-libbing style; it’s a lost art in the age of the teleprompter.