Paul Harvey R.I.P.

Another connection to my childhood was severed yesterday when Paul Harvey passed away at the age of 90. Every time I heard Paul Harvey (and I went out of my way to hear him on the 8:30am and noon news), I was transported back to Nonnie's red-and-white tiled kitchen, focused on the radio on a shelf in the corner near the front window, over the table that held all of Nonnie's African violet plants. Paul Harvey was the background music of my childhood years and represents many good memories for me.

Carrying on the habit of listening to him as an adult, my kids also liked to tune into Paul Harvey (when we say his name we always say PaulHarvey, like it's one word). Many a time in the car we would wait with rapt attention to hear the end of "The Rest of The Story," and would try to guess who he, or his son, Paul Harvey, Jr. was talking about before the story was finished. His voice and style transcended generations, and I always said to Mark that when Paul Harvey was gone, that would be the end of an era. So, R.I.P. Paul Harvey, we will miss listening to you, and you've taken a piece of each of us with you.