Another reason not to take life so seriously...
4-15-09

It was Monday April 14th. Still reeling over too much Easter dinner and not enough exercise. A sluggish after holiday kind of feeling. Working through it back on the job when the call came in. "Harry Kalas died". What? My girlfriend Donna repeated, "Harry Kalas died." I was at a stoplight where East Moyamensing and Snyder Avenue converge deep in South Philly. This is where I found another piece of my youth went away. When Harry's longtime partner Rich 'Whitey' Ashburn died many years ago I remember thinking, "thank God we still have Harry." Ironically Whitey, like Harry, died while working when the Phillies were away in New York. This time the news comes out of our nation's capital that a national sports treasure passes suddenly.

Much will be written about Harry; volumes can be said about one of the classiest broadcasters I've had the pleasure to meet and spend some time. Harry arrived to the city back in 1971, the same year the former Veterans Stadium opened. Harry's arrival was less than welcome as he was replacing the local and popular Bill Campbell as lead broadcaster. It took time, as it always does for a newcomer to gain the respect of Philly fans. This Iowa born son of a preacher eventually carved his way into the hearts of all Philly fans. Harry's status as a broadcaster in Philadelphia in this man's view will never be matched. Too many key moments in Philly sports history, too many key plays and players Harry's been introducing us to throughout almost 38 seasons. Listening to Harry was like listening to an artist. What Harry said we believed. What Harry didn't say didn't need to be said. Harry's ability to let the ambiance of the game whisper into our backyards, cars, headsets and transistor radios had a music all its own. If summer had a 'soundtrack' it was on display during a Phillies broadcast presented by its conductor, Harry 'The K' Kalas.

I remember the calls of Mike Schmidt, known forever now thanks to Harry as 'Michael Jack' hitting his 500th career homer. I remember the call of the Phillies clinching the NL Pennant in a grueling match up beating the Astros to go to the World Series in 1980. I remember the 1993 band of misfit Phillies clinching the Pennant and the abundant joy in the announcing of this title by the late, great Harry. There's so many great calls before the ultimate call last year bringing home the trophy to a championship starved city. Before the game Harry was asked if he had planned what to say if the Phillies clinched the World Series crown. Harry explained during an interview he never planned any of his remarks. The game was the subject of his art and the microphone was his brush. The master artist was Harry and his gorgeous voice created a beautiful painting which just happened to be a baseball game. When the Phils won it all that cold October night Harry said "The Phillies are the 2008 World Champions of Baseball". Simple, to the point, perfect. We Philly fans hold more affection to growing up with Harry then many around the nation. After all we listened to Harry every night for 6 months a year. But Harry's passing is really a loss for all of sports. Beyond baseball Harry was also the voice of NFL films. This departure from baseball made possible by NFL Films owner Steve Sabol. Sabol knew that Harry's incredible talent would transcend baseball and was eager to have Harry narrate classic football film footage. Like another great and legendary Philly broadcast pioneer, John Facenda, Harry did exemplary work and wound up becoming a national figure as a result of his time with NFL films.

What I'll remember about Harry is how approachable and personable he was. In radio, Harry was a fixture. Whether you worked alongside Harry didn't matter. Broadcasting is a large fraternity and Harry was as kind a man as you could know. I asked him during an off season dinner back before the 1993 season began if he thought the team had a chance. "I do. Mark my words, David, this team will go deep into the playoffs, and that means they'll have a genuine shot at the NL pennant." I smiled. I didn't believe him. I thought he was way too optimistic. He knew I didn't agree. Harry smiled back, he nodded and said, "Just you wait." We both laughed.

I don't have to tell you what happened. Harry was right on the money. The 93 team went all the way to the fall classic before losing to the Blue Jays. Harry was the one thing I remember about listening to the games with my dad. It's the one thing I'll always cherish about listening to the games with my sons. Harry connected the dots between generations season after season.

Easter Sunday was Harry's last broadcast which took place in Colorado. Monday at just about noon Harry passed from earth's baseball diamond to that ballpark in the sky where I hope the first face he saw was Whitey's. Here one day, gone that quick the next. Another reason to enjoy life's journey and not take life so seriously. After all we're only here for a visit. Harry's visit with us lasted almost 38 years. The memories will last forever. See 'ya around town.