I feel like I've been kicked in the chest.
Yesterday David Halberstam died in a car crash
. He was 73.
David Halberstam was a favorite of mine. Even when I disagreed with what I was reading -- and I'm sure he would have welcomed the skepticism -- he was so damned engaging I couldn't help but enjoy myself.
When he was on -- as in "The Best and the Brightest," "The Powers That Be," "The Reckoning" and "The Fifties" -- I looked forward to getting back to his books with a giddiness that was often completely out of sync with the material at hand.
He was a thoughtful commentator and a gracious interview
An auto accident is a brutal and unfair way to die, but for it to happen to Halberstam -- a man who chronicled (and became enmeshed in) the two primary crucibles of the '60s, the civil rights movement and Vietnam -- it is a cruel end indeed. He should have passed in peace. He should have passed after watching a ballgame from the bleachers, with conversation happily exhausted and the everlasting promise of a long season spread out in all directions.
I will miss him terribly.