Ernie Harwell, the broadcast voice of the Detroit Tigers, died on May 4, 2010.  His death was remarked in columns on sports and to a slight extent in the general media.  So passed away without lament my youthful world.  The Wall Street Journal printed a brief remembrance.  The summary was succinct and accurate and well suited to the occasion.  One offhand observation capatured the passing of an era.  In describing his common touch, the articles noted that “his voice became a summer soundtrack for people fishing for perch on Lake St. Clair, working in their garages, and driving to and from weekend cottages.”  For many broadcast years his voice was almost universal.  I remember walking our street on a weekend summer afternoon and never being out of earshot of his voice, coming from every open door and window and backyard radio.  His voice was the hallmark of a time of unity among entire communities.  We shared a common experience and the sharing was significant.  With regret we say goodby to a representative of another era and time in our history, all the more poignant because shared by so many.  Never intending, he became the image of much more than baseball.  He is the voice of a vanished world, a world of secure and properous ordinary workers, safe neighborhoods for roaming on a bicycle and languid summer days and evenings spent at lakes or in backyards with family.  Ernie Harwell will be deeply missed.

There was no byline to the Wall Street Journal article.  It was compiled from the Associated Press wire.