A Childhood Acquaintance

I had the good fortune of having two relationships with Kim Harmon – one as a childhood acquaintance and another as a fellow journalist many years later.

In elementary school, Kim Harmon lived a few streets away from me, and his cousins had one of the biggest yards on my street with a huge tract of forest behind it that was perfect for the occasional make-believe games of Army or cops and robbers. As we grew up, Kim and I shared daily bus rides to neighboring elementary schools in Waterbury, and he was often around for pick-up games of baseball, basketball or football in one of the local parks.

But once we headed to separate high schools – on different buses – I lost touch with him. So imagine my surprise when I walked into my first day of work at The Bee, and the sports editor says, “Don’t you remember me?”

In the ensuing 2½ years, I had many conversations with Kim because he worked just a few feet away from my desk. He immediately won my respect for both his extensive knowledge of sports, and his love of covering them on a local level. He had a unique perspective – watching Newtown’s athletes grow from young T-ballers and Rec swimmers to high school and college stars, and almost nothing would keep him from an important game. Except his family.

Occasionally our conversations turned to our own families instead of the folks we cover in our jobs. Kim was so proud of each of his children, never hesitating to mention when one of them enjoyed an accomplishment in school, or in their many extra-curricular activities. Kim took great pains to ensure he was there for them, whether it was for a championship sports competition, a musical recital or just to give one of them a ride home from school.

And when it came to his “other kids,” the thousands and thousands he wrote about across the multitude of leagues and schools he covered, Kim Harmon promoted their achievements, their sportsmanship, their individual and collective talents, and yes, even their losses, with a degree of balance and diplomacy seldom seen even in major daily newspaper markets. And he handled it all with his own brand of quiet, confident professionalism that drew a consistent fan base of Newtown Bee readership. In fact, a couple of generations of young sportsmen and women don’t know a Newtown Bee Sports section without Kim Harmon’s personal stamp being on it.

He was a one-man sports department, with a handful of hand-picked stringers and freelancers providing support when needed. He came and went almost unnoticed, but every week, his sports pages got noticed, and there was no doubt there would always be a perfectly controlled balance of material to make every coach, kid, parent, and grandparent proud.

Kim Harmon had the opportunity to make champions out of thousands of young people trying to make their mark in the world of sports, and in doing so, he earned himself an esteemed place in The Bee’s unofficial Hall of Fame. He will never be replaced, and he will be sorely missed by the entire community.

–John Voket, associate editor

I don’t know if it was the orange “Tennessee” sweatshirt and “Tenn” winter jacket Kim wore, very proudly I might add, in UConn Husky country by my desk or the trips to the candy basket I will miss most. When we would hear his exaggerated sighs, it was always a sign he was around the corner and on his way to the front office to check his mail basket or casually grab a piece of candy. Late basketball and baseball sports reports would always bring on a reaction, but never a disgruntled one in front of a customer.

Rosie [an office dog] could always bring a smile to his face, as he would give her a big hug and rub of her head as she sat perched on her chair as he was checking the fax machine for scores and highlights.

– Sherri Baggett, business manager

I knew Kim Harmon for more than 15 years, working with him as a colleague at The Newtown Bee. A low-key and unassuming person, Kim was not one to draw attention to himself. What I remember most clearly about Kim was his ability to capture that moment in time in sports that clearly illustrates a sporting event, be it baseball, basketball, track, or some other event. Kim initially captured that moment in time on photographic film and later adapted to digital imaging technology. Not only did the images capture the moment, they also compositionally illustrated the dynamics of the sport at hand.

–Andrew Gorosko, reporter

 

Newspaper coverage is almost the same as sports coverage, but without the cuts and bruises. I have known a few sports writers and editors and know that the devotion extends to the teams, the players, the winners and losers, and finally, the readers. Thick skin and a soft heart. I know that Kim had enough experience and humor to hang up the phone after a parent complained and not think of it again. But his writing made it clear that he had players’ morale in mind when he talked about Newtown’s teams.

Kim certainly had a lot to say about the players, and hopefully his words boosted spirits in columns that they could take home with them, cut out, and remember.

I have to admire Kim’s ability to find the right photo mixed up in the grimaces and sweat of players tangling over the ball. His photos tell me that his hands never shook and he was watching carefully for the right moments. I also have to admire his ability to find the right moment to sit in his office and read a book.

That’s my first impression of him as I walked through the office. My glance skipped through his doorway and Kim looked up without a bit of guilt for leaning back in his chair with a book in one hand. Despite my years of reporting I have always known the value of letting my mind wander (quietly), but Kim was deliberate about it. He was right, and that’s something I’ll remember.

I can only guess that he was waiting for a coach to call back or for the team captains to e-mail a photo, but I imagine he was taking a break from his writing. Like it says on his basketball publicity sheet, “Do it right — your kids deserve the recognition!” Well, maybe Kim deserves some recognition for knowing when to put down his work until his mind clears then get back to his keyboard with fresh effort. I only knew Kim Harmon’s professional face, but somehow we never talked about sports. We talked books or cameras and sometimes the relief of another week’s deadline.

I remember one conversation with Kim that happened only minutes after I bought a new book out by author James Lee Burke. I had seen Kim reading the writer’s other titles and when I saw a new book on the shelves I thought I would surprise Kim with it.

I stepped into his doorway and asked him to look at what I found. He turned to see the book I held up, then reached beside his computer monitor. He lifted up his own copy. He looked from his book to mine, smiled, then let me know he checked the shelves himself for new releases.

We talked at times about cameras too, and although he had confessed that he hardly used any of the features on his Nikon, Kim’s shots were some of the best. He always caught the emotion on players’ faces and seemed to be right beside them with his lens.

Certainly I will think of him each time I see a rugged sports photograph, and I know now that someone else was watching the book shelves more closely than I was.

– Kendra Bobowick, reporter

In the three years I have been with The Bee, my contact with Kim has been fleeting – mainly because with Kim’s dedication to the Newtown athletics departments, he passed by my desk only rarely and briefly on his way to cover one sports event or another, maybe pausing long enough to grab a cookie or share a bit of his wry humor. As a colleague, Kim was the sort of guy you knew was doing his job and would have it done when he said he would. He never imposed on anyone else in the editorial staff, even though there were times in the year when you knew his workload had to be insane.

As a parent of a swim team member at NHS, just last week I watched Kim work the New Milford/Newtown swim event. Another parent standing nearby was watching Kim move about the pool, taking pictures, and commented, “We are so lucky to have Kim Harmon. He takes great sports pictures.” I only hope that Kim was lucky enough to have heard that himself from parents, students, and coaches. He will be missed by a great number of people.

–Nancy Crevier, reporter

Where do I start? I guess right in front of me at the candy basket – oh what a sweet tooth several times a day and just as pleasant as he can be always. He told me about his trip this past summer – camping – and what a disaster it was and how he’ll never go again. The whole family went, took two cars his wife got lost following right behind him. He told me about his dog and how cute he was when they took him in and about  all the kids reactions’ to the dog. And years before that, he told about his cats and the kittens they had. Then there was the time he was cut in the bathroom here at The Bee when a ladder fell through the glass window. He was just a soft spoken man with a big impact on people. I’ll miss him dearly.

–Sandy Tannone, receptionist

Kim was unflappable. That’s the first thing that comes to mind when I think of him. In the office, I never saw him lose his temper, nor was he ever in a bad mood. The only time I saw him anything but happy was when his back would be bothering him. Otherwise, unflappable.

 He cranked out that sports section and set the bar for so many of us. He wrote his stories and took fantastic photos (we were just talking about that again recently), he laid out those pages, and he never missed his deadline. He had help from a number of coaches and parents in collecting information about many of the teams that The Bee provided coverage for, but the Bee’s Sports section for the past few years has primarily been a one-man production.

He loved chocolate too. I can’t think of how many times he would go to Sandy’s desk to see what was in the candy basket, and would walk away without taking anything if the only thing in there was a hard candy. If he found chocolate, however, he was all over it.

–Shannon Hicks, associate editor

Even though I’m not a sports fan in any way, shape or form, Kim’s Bits & Pieces column was so much fun that I often read it even though I had no idea who he was talking about most of the time.  He was a great writer and I just can’t believe he’s gone.

–Bridget Seaman, classified

I have just been writing to the people in the soccer community in town and as I write I remember how many times Kim would keep in touch with me about how the high school was doing, when I couldn’t go to games. How many times he asked about my boys whom he knew through sports; how often he would get something in about soccer that came at the last minute.

The loss is just numbing. The only time I won anything was his basketball tournament office pool the first year I began working here. I just wanted to let you know how his loss is affecting me and the community I am close to – he was so knowledgeable of and deeply committed to sports, I am so sad.

–Anne Kugielski, antiques editorial

I’m new to The Bee, and I hardly knew Kim, but I was very impressed by the story he wrote about his son in the December 7 issue. In his “Bits & Pieces” column, he wrote about how disappointed his son was when he found out he didn’t make the basketball game. But Kim wrote about how proud he was of his son’s “adult” response. His son said he was going to ask the coach what he needed to work on, and that he planned on trying out for the team next year.

–Martha Coville, reporter

I am not good at words...but I was struck by Kim’s gentleness and patience. Always kind ... never a bad word about anyone. And I never heard him complain about anything. I can only imagine what a great husband and father he must have been. I also remember his love for science fiction and monster movies and books.

–Carol Fenn, production department

The one thing the people in my office will always remember about Kim is that whenever someone brought a baby into the office, he would drop what he was doing and come over and admire the child, always touching them, holding their little hands, and always breathing in deeply and remarking on what a great smell babies have.

–Sue Caponi, antiques advertising