By Tom Wyatt

If there's one thing I learned since retiring my post as The Bee's sports editor — nine years, three months, and 23 days ago — it's that we have control over only one thing in this world: our thoughts.

So when I got phone messages Monday morning from five old Newtown Bee friends, my initial thought was that maybe they were planning on erecting a statue in my honor. The actual reason for the calls, of course, was devastating. Kim Harmon, the man who had devoted the last 14 years to telling your stories in this space, lost his life tragically at the age of only 45.

Kim was hired by The Bee in December of 1993, as today's high school sports stars were waddling around in diapers and the seniors were transitioning into "big kid" pants. Outside a love of people and sports, he and I didn't have much in common at all. But we moved into an office together and quickly became fast friends. Over the five years that followed, he and I saw each other five or six days a week. As I type this, I can't help but smile as I recollect the hundreds of inside jokes we shared. We laughed a lot.

I'm not sure which one was Felix, but we were the Odd Couple for sure. Every morning we'd run down to the Bagelman (now Bagel Delight). I'd get coffee. He'd get Coke. I taught Kim a lot about Newtown sports. He taught me a lot about English.

We went to Cooperstown together to cover a Newtown High baseball game that never happened. We went to Boston together on three occasions to receive honors for our sports section. We played in golf tournaments together. We played softball. And for nearly 250 straight Fridays, we put together three or four pages of sports and sent it to print.

Kim cared so much about other people. I truly never heard him say a bad word about anybody. He was what I'd call an "equal opportunity" sports writer. To him, every athlete was important and no sport was higher profile than any other. He really felt a responsibility to be sure everybody got their due credit.

Then there were those things that nobody would read about, and nobody else would observe. Those quiet down times, sitting in the office and talking about life. He'd tell me about how he was named after some Hawaiian character his parents saw on TV in the early 60s.

But, more than anything else, Kim would talk about his three children. He'd boast about his daughter Melissa earning high honors in school. He'd beam as he'd tell me about his oldest son Benjamin (at 6 or 7) being able to hit his best Wiffle ball curve over the fence that surrounded their yard. I did't have children yet, but I'd secretly hope that I'd someday talk on the phone to my own kids the way he'd talk with his little baby (at the time), Tyler.

Right now I'm wishing I had kept in closer touch with Kim over the last nine years, but life gets in the way. I'm trying to imagine those three kids as teenagers.

Though Kim Harmon was never really a part of the sports teams he covered, he always felt as though he was a part of yours. He never made headlines in the sports pages. But outside of watching his own children excel, nothing gave him more pleasure than shouting it from the rooftops when you did it. It wasn't his job. It was who he was.

And somehow Kim was able to cover all of the sports in this town over the past nine years, virtually by himself. That's 20-some high school sports, a dozen youth sports, adult recreation sports, and outside features. That's photography, event coverage, writing, editing, layout, and production.

When I retired from this sports section, I got to say "good-bye." Now, it's my honor to do the same thing for my friend. He would have said it differently. He always preferred the spotlight shine the other way. But there's one thing I'm sure he would have said: "It's been great." Kim loved Newtown. He loved you, he loved your sports, and probably more than anything he loved your kids.

It will be a difficult holiday season at the Harmon house, and anyone who really knew that man will choke up at least a little. We lost a beloved teammate.

If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that we have control over only one thing in this world: our thoughts. And all my thoughts of Kim Harmon are good ones. See ya bud. You'll be missed.