When I was fresh out of school and moved to the Detroit area, it was pretty lonely time. In trying to fit in and find my place it was hard to find a voice that made you comfortable.
Enter Earnie Harwell. Some people have such a way and demeanor that you are instantly soothed and calmed. I have written in this space about being a Detroit Tigers fanboy, and the circumstances that solidified that in my life. Probably the biggest catalyst to that was listening to Harwell call games. Cardinals fans had Jack Buck. Cubs fans had Harry Caray. Dodgers fans–nay, baseball fans–have Vin Scully. I’d give up all those greats to be able to hear Earnie Harwell call games every summer, forever.
I know it is inevitable that such people must leave us–the clock ticks on for us all–but Mr. Harwell’s departure will be a bit more difficult than I’m sure he was hoping. He was diagnosed with an incurable cancer.
It makes me sad, like learning that my beloved uncle is dying. I’ve never met the man. Maybe it’s simply because he has to die, and that means I will, too. Maybe it’s a connection between two people with chronic diseases. I don’t know. Maybe I just wish I could visit him and thank him. Whatever this is, I hope he is able to spend his last days doing the things he loves with people who love him and care for him. I will continue to soothe my mind with his voice in my head, and try to push back at the sadness that life seems to constantly push on me.
