So Long, Old Friend

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My friends, we have lost our voice, our soul.

The world became aware this evening that legendary broadcaster Ernie Harwell has passed away tonight, finally losing his battle with cancer. He was 92 years old.

I’m sure over the next 24 hours or so, you will find a dozen or more fantastic writes about Ernie. People will treat you to memories of meetings they once had, how genuine a person he was, and how the world is never going to see another like him.

You know what? As much as the same could be written about any human being on the planet, none would deserve such praise more than Ernie.

Ernie was the voice of Tigers baseball from 1960-2002 and there will never be another like him. He’s definitely on the Mount Rushmore of baseball broadcasters, along with Jack Buck, Harry Kalas, and Vin Scully. Ernie was the voice of summer, the soundtrack to our youths, and the calming, soothing sounds of his baritone accompanied all of us to sleep during those dreaded west-coast games.

I’m sure I’ll have much more for you later, but in the meantime, please leave your comments, share with us your favorites memories of Ernie, or just use this space to mourn with your friends. I’ll be right there as well.

The past year has brought great sadness to the Tigers franchise, losing Mark Fidrych, seeing the final remnants of old Tiger Stadium reduced to rubble, and now suffering the finality of the loss of our dear friend, and in many ways our spiritual leader, Ernie Harwell.

God bless you Ernie, and your wonderful bride Lulu, as well. Anyone who ever had the chance to meet you surely was better for having done so. You turned our little corner of the universe into the greatest place in the world for three hours or so every night.

Tags: Detroit Tigers, Ernie Harwell

John Parent

Uncle Mike, thank you for stopping in and sharing your story. I'm so glad to hear that Ernie could touch even a Yankees fan. "His goodness surpassed whatever we can say about his greatness". Incredibly well said, sir.

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Thank you Bob for sharing your feelings here. I have spent the day reading article after article, post after post on the passing of Ernie Harwell. Each one brings me to tears. How can a person be so loved, so missed, when most of us never actually met the man? Simply because to all of us, Ernie was baseball, he was our youth, he was evenings of endless summers experiencing the joy and love of baseball that Ernie shared with us. All of us who heard him call even one game knew Ernie, without ever meeting him.

Uncle Mike

War hero, minister, songwriter, chronicler of one of the great sports institutions of this country, and yet nothing that can be said about this man can suffice. His goodness surpassed whatever we can say about his greatness, and that's the best legacy anyone can have. I've only been to Detroit once, making it to Tiger Stadium in that farewell season of 1999, and although the city was in no better shape now than then, and the Tigers got pounded by the White Sox the day, I had a great time, not least because I could hear Mr. Ernie (I can't call him anything else) on my Walkman and see him in that nice close press box. His decency touched the heart of a demented Yankee Fan from 700 miles away, and made me tune in every once in a while, even though I have no particulary reason to root for the Tigers (except when they play the Red Sox) and, at 760 AM, WJR is right next to a New York superstation, 770 WABC. I made the effort to tune him in anyway. How's that for an achievement?

Bob

Although I've been 'long gone' from Detroit for many years, my youth is firmly entrenched there in my memories, and the voice of Ernie calling the Tiger games is one of those memories that still resonates. To me and my friends, Ernie was the Tigers because he was our conduit to the team and all of its players whose baseball cards we all kept in old shoe or cigar boxes. No matter where we ventured out, one of us almost always carried a small transistor radio with them so that we could listen to Ernie and George Kell once the game began. In my teens, I played softball and listened to the Tiger games all summer long. I loved baseball and all of its nuances and it was Ernie's love of the game, emanating from that small tinny speaker which validated and made potent my feeling for the game as well. Over the years I've lost some of that love for the game, but I'll never lose the memories of that smooth southern drawl of Ernie's which initially instilled my youthful adoration of the game of baseball.

Zac Snyder

It brought tears to my eyes to hear all the stories flood in to the radio shows as I drove in to work this morning. Faith, family, and baseball; God bless you Ernie Harwell.

Right there with you Zac. Even Mike and Mike had numerous tributes to Ernie on their show today. The world has lost one of the greatest people God has yet created, with or without baseball.