Goodbye to the Great Ernie Harwell

 

His twang was southern. His allegiance was to Detroit. His heart was golden. Ernie Harwell was PURE MICHIGAN!

 

Humanity more than sports lost a legend on Tuesday night. The great Ernie Harwell passed away at his home in Novi and upon closing his eyes opened them to be with his beloved savior. 

 

He didn’t face death afraid. In fact, he accepted it warmly claiming, “For the Christian there is a sense of calm that we know what happens next.”

 

Ernie Harwell was the sign that spring had truly sprung for millions of people, myself included. Although I spent numerous good times with my father that had nothing to do with baseball, his voice always resonated my memories to my dad.

 

I remember listening to him as child. When a foul ball would reach the stands he would declare, “There is a nice souvenir for that youngster from Clare,” or any other Michigan city. I remember riding home from Traverse City one day with my dad. Of course Ernie was on the radio and he mentioned yet another youngster and this time he said Kalkaska. I asked my dad how he knew every kid and my dad responded with an answer that I can only appreciate today as a father, “Ernie knows everything about Tiger baseball.” 

 

Once as a young man my father, two brothers, and I went to the ballpark. We saw Ernie that day up in his box calling the game. It was a thrill to be in the park and I hoped to get a foul ball so he could say a youngster from Laingsburg just got a souvenir.

 

Years later I met Ernie. I sat in the Ernie Harwell Media Center (press box) at Comerica Park. He started a conversation with me. I have met so many and never been intimidated, but I was that day.

 

He was pleasant and kind as you would expect, but he also had a heart that cared for people. Since he approached me I acted like I am sure thousands before and told him about his youngster from wherever and his souvenir line had mesmerized me. He told me that day, “I hear that more about that one act than any homerun or play I ever called.”

 

When I told him about my father’s kind words about knowing all about Tiger baseball he assured me it wasn’t true. He was humble.

 

Ernie Harwell touched more than the average baseball fan. His comments on death allowed me as a father to have a conversation with my oldest son on facing death. His voice was calming after a bad day. He was the first radioman that I ever wanted to listen to rather than watch the game on TV.

 

He is an ICON. I have written before many times and said on TV that one of the worst parts of being in sports journalism is that when you meet so many of your childhood heroes they are not what you had envisioned. Ernie was not a disappointment.

 

I remember cheating my bedtime as a kid, hiding under the blankets listening to Ernie on a transistor radio. Once while in Oklahoma on a hot summer night, I even found Ernie’s voice over the WJR station that somehow had reached into the lower parts of our country. It carried across the country on the strong signal like manna from heaven. I was in Oklahoma, but I was at home for those fifteen minutes. In fact, when I lost his signal I was devastated.

 

Ernie Harwell was as graceful and magnificent in death as in life. If you think he was only a sportscaster you have missed his true impact. If you think he was only an ICON you miss his humanity. If you think he was only a good man you miss his legendary status as a professional. He was so much to so many.

 

Last night in Novi my childhood officially died. It will never be the same. Sure he hasn’t called games for years, but he was alive and so were the memories. In case my birthdays didn’t remind me I am officially old. Ernie Harwell is the greatest sports figure in the state of Michigan history. As long as Ernie was alive, part of my childhood was also.

 

The last night I saw Ernie I was in the Tigers’ press box and he greeted me with a, “Hello my friend.” Today I simply say, Goodbye my friend.