His name was Charles, but we called him Charlie. I suppose because it seemed more affectionate and for sure we felt affection for him.
   Today's column is too close, too personal, and almost too painful to write, but I feel compelled to try to express my feelings, knowing that many of you feel the same and can empathize with my simple attempt to capture in words what we feel in our hearts.
   On April 29 of this year, I came to the STAR office to talk with Charlie, the STAR publisher, about an idea I had for the paper. I was greeted warmly and extended a "Welcome back" by Charlie. We had a good talk about the newspaper and he shared some of his dreams for his paper.
   I told Charlie the "itch" to write again was nudging persistently and needed to be "scratched". He smiled that sunny smile that said "I understand" and we shared some moments reminiscing for we each knew the other loved this paper with an almost passionate love.
   He went on to introduce me to his editor, Guy Austin, whose father was a STAR writer a few years ago, and Guy, too, was gracious and assuring, putting to rest any apprehensions I may have felt. I was once again officially a member of the STAR family.
   When you're the publisher of a newspaper in a small town, you carry a tremendous responsibility, for the citizens look to you to keep them abreast of the news, regionally, nationally and internationally, but more importantly, they want all the LOCAL news. That's ultimately how they rate you, for people seem to know intuitively that the newspaper is the heartbeat of a community.
   Give Charlie and his staff a "10" for local news coverage:  Since 1864 this community has had the good fortune to have a community newspaper, and Charlie played a big role in keeping that tradition alive and well. May it ever be so.
   Literally thousands of children have been the recipients of write-ups in the STAR whether they played tee-ball, Little League, softball, tennis, golf, basketball or Friday night football, they could count on extensive coverage in the STAR.
   And our schools: whether a Gold Card winner, a perfect attendance kid, a most improved or honor roll student, you can expect those accomplishments to be in the STAR. You won't be disappointed.
   Yes, Charlie clearly understood the importance of a local, hometown newspaper. I suspect his love for this community was the defining factor of this understanding.
   Many people in the past few days have echoed my own feelings by remarking: "Charlie was such a sweet person,"  the ultimate compliment. This world needs more sweet men for they lend substance, balance and joy to life.
   A smile was his trademark. I can't remember seeing him without that friendly, room-brightening smile and his own cheery "Hi." Even on a bad day, even if the presses broke down, even if he'd had some distasteful task to perform, Charlie never lost his ability to smile.
   Charlie was a gentle person, and obviously he had found his center, was on track, and in control, and when tough measures were called for, he stepped up to the plate and delivered---but always tempered with compassion, a rare combination. He gave and received respect in equal measure.
   He was such a presence in our town and so the town grieves with the Robinson family, as well as the STAR family. If one can leave the world a better place, then one's life was surely a successful one. In his own quiet, unassuming way, never asking for or expecting credit or accolades, Charlie left the world a better place. 
   We try in vain to capture in words the essence of a person, but it isn't possible--it would be like trying to catch a sunbeam or a passing breeze, but nevertheless we love and appreciate both. We loved and appreciated Charlie, too. That is enough.
   It is so hard to say goodbye when you don't even know how, and particularly when you don't want to.
   I'm taking the liberty of paraphrasing what Queen Elizabeth said upon the death of "Queen Mum" a year or so ago. It touched me deeply:
   "You can shed tears because he's gone or you can smile because he lived."
   When some of this grief dims, and it will, I hope we will keep Charlie's smile alive, passing it on to others.....as he did. Let that be our inheritance, the legacy he left.