Long before XM, MP3s and drop-down DVD screens were options for automobiles (or even ideas, for that matter), we had crackly AM radio. And there were only a few channels back then – which you'd navigate to by pushing big silver buttons that 'clicked' when you pressed them. Other than preachers howling and some rogue polka music, I don't remember much about what lived behind those shiny radio buttons. But I will never forget Paul Harvey and how his voice rose above the din of traffic each day as I sat in the back of my grandmother's car with the window down and the sun on my face – waiting for him to tell me a story.
My grandmother's long since passed, and tonight we lost Paul Harvey. I can't help but think that somewhere in heaven, my grandmother's reaching for one of those big silver buttons. And smiling.