Ernie Harwell
It’s like when the Red Sox won the World Series. It means something. It means something to this town, this team. It means something to the generations of mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters who learned to love each other — oh, and baseball, too — in the company of a great man.
It means something to those who have lost the baseball fans in their lives. It means something to the vast diaspora of Greater Michigania that followed the car companies out of town, but never forgot the loyalty or great decency that defines the place they’ll always call home.
The viewing held today at Comerica Park started at 7:00 AM and isn’t expected to finish until after midnight. The whole state is in shock and mourning.
It’s like when the Sox won the Series, only it sucks.
I never had the great pleasure to meet Mr. Harwell, but I played catch with my dad and little league with my buddies. I froze under blankets at Tiger Stadium in April and strained to tune in WJR at some campground Up North. I treasured the chance to hear him call one last inning during the All-Star Game or the World Series.
We all felt like we knew him like a dear family friend, mostly because he was, even if he didn’t know it yet. I’ve been sobbing all week.
I’ll always remember the Voice the Turtle on Opening Day, “Stood there like the house on the side of the road,” and “Loooong gone!” I will always — always — remember the great joy i get every day from loving Michigan, Detroit, and the Tigers.
Ernie Harwell means something to us because
he simply reminded us that we all mean something to each other.
He will be dearly missed, but only because he had such a tremendous ability to make people happy.
Goodbye, friend. Thank you for gracing us with your spirit and humility.
Originally published 2010–05–07 on Be The Power.
