On Sept. 22, America lost a national treasure, Yogi Berra. A five-foot, seven-inch tall giant. A man who epitomized the greatness of America and America’s greatest generation. He was an enigmatic character whose grasp of simple logic made scholars and leaders around the world simultaneously shake their heads in utter amazement and nod them in total agreement.
I was fortunate enough, in my youth, to watch him play the game he loved and revered in his final years with the New York Yankees. It was obvious, even to a 10-year-old, as I was, that he played every inning with all his heart and all he had — because he truly believed “It ain’t over ’til it’s over.”
Thanks for the memories, Yogi. And I am confident he now sits at the right hand of the father. May he rest in peace.
Bill Sullivan, Buckfield
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