We lose a piece of our soul, but gain something, too

At this point, it feels a bit awkward adding one's voice to the chorus of praises for Bob Frisk.

The newspaper has editorialized about his 50-year career covering high school sports here. Most of our sports writers have reflected on how special he is to them and to the paper. An entire classic basketball game was revived in his honor, for crying out loud, and we've even renamed for him one of the top honors given in local high school sports - the Bob Frisk Paddock Cup and Trophy awarded yearly to the Mid-Suburban League's top boys and girls athletic programs.

He won't benefit from my impotent addendum.

And yet ...

And yet ...

And yet, you might.

The past week has brought a flurry of notable departures from the media. Steve Dahl, a Chicago broadcast icon, slipped out the back door - figuratively, if not literally - of local radio. WGN Radio's Spike O'Dell will depart with a flourish Friday from the Arlington Heights stage of the Metropolis Performing Arts Centre. And then there's Bob.

His name doesn't have nearly the reach of the other Chicago media celebrities, and I suspect he doesn't want it to.

In 50 years of writing a sports column, he certainly has mentioned himself, his family and other personal issues, but his work was never about himself. It was always about celebrating the spirit of achievement in others - in fact, in young men and women of a generation far removed from his own, in years if not in interests.

We may think a lot of good things when we reflect on what Dahl or O'Dell or any of many other big-name Chicagoans have brought to our lives, but Frisk has given us a legacy that is singularly his.

Decency.

In Bob's case, the significance of that contribution is usually referenced against the backdrop of professional athletes, a group with whom the term decency does not readily come to mind. But this week, as I contemplated the long, cold shower I would need after an arduous day of reading the charges of criminal lust and greed against my governor, it occurred to me how important Bob's contribution is in areas well beyond a sports arena.

We all strive for things of apparent value in life - for money, for recognition, for challenges, for love and friendships - and sports is nothing if not the embodiment of the human quest to achieve goals. But Bob's character and his career have been constant reminders to me of what it means to keep those goals in perspective and how that perspective enriches a life.

It's a perspective that, when we talk about being a community newspaper, the Daily Herald constantly aspires to. I suspect that's one reason you've read so much about Bob from so many of us lately. We yearn for what he is, what he has. We long for our newspaper to be that also.

As individuals, we know we have a long way to go to achieve his standards of decency, honor and pure class. As a newspaper, we despair, too, that we are diminished by his leaving. He takes with him a bit of our heart and our soul and much of what makes us us.

But he also leaves some of his own heart and soul behind. They have become intrinsic to our identity, now permanently part of what makes us who we will be.

We've said and done a lot to honor Bob the past few weeks and months. Our most meaningful honor, though, won't be through the torrent of words we pour out about him. It will come in the months and years ahead through our own commitment to enlarge upon what he has left us.

• Jim Slusher, jslusher@dailyherald.com, is an assistant managing editor at the Daily Herald