I was a producer for a season-long sports show for a minor league baseball team about a decade ago. My job was to call sports figures and ask them for an on-air interview.
Many of the guys my producer/boss wanted me to call I never heard of, but I heard of Ernie Harwell, the longtime announcer for the Detroit Tigers. We got him, and he was, well, perfect. Mr. Harwell was funny, gracious, and generous. What struck me most about him while listening to the interview through the sound board was his inner joy and serenity. Hearing Mr. Harwell he sounded like he was the happiest man in the world and he knew it. And I wanted to be like him.
After the interview, I had to pick up the phone to say goodbye to him. All I could say after hearing his voice and his stories was, "God bless you, Mr. Harwell." And he let out a little guffaw. I don't know why I said that. I'm Buddhist. But it felt right at the time. And looking back on it, I'm a little embarrassed, but not really.
I have not heard one bad word said about Mr. Harwell, not one. Those people were saints on Earth.
RIP, Mr. Harwell.
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