Remembering Jim Henneman

The book “60 Years of Orioles Magic” is a labor of love written by Orioles baseball writer Jim Henneman, who recently died at 89, whom I will always think of as the heart and soul of Baltimore baseball (“Jim Henneman, Baltimore sportswriter and former Orioles scorekeeper, dies,” May 23).

He loved the game like no other and he loved the Orioles win or lose. At 20, I had the privilege to sit beside him in the sports department as our mentor and boss John Steadman taught us the art of sports writing. Jimmy’s passion never waned as he went on to witness pretty much the most Orioles games in history. RIP Jimmy!

— Lenny Arzt, Virginia Beach, Virginia.

Remember those who died for our freedom

Kudos to The Baltimore Sun for publishing the article “Memorial Day’s meaning obscured.” As a veteran who served in Vietnam, I knew people who died in that conflict and will be thinking of them on Memorial Day as well as of all those who died while serving in the United States Armed Forces. As stated in many online articles on Memorial Day, “It is a day for reflection and remembrance, not celebration.”

And further, “It is a day to mourn those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country.” God bless America and those who died for it. A few years ago, I blared taps through my amplifier on my patio. The music came from Arlington National Cemetery.

There was a celebration going on outside in the parking lot and while others just looked around to see where the music was coming from, five bikers stood up put their hand on their hearts and remained still til the end. I went down to where they were and bought them all a drink.

Their reverence at the moment really touched me. Please take a moment to remember those who died for the freedom we have today.

— Stas Chrzanowski, Baltimore

Jacques Kelly evokes a bygone era

Memorial Day brings back memories not only of loved ones passed on but of traditions gone too. Jacques Kelly deserves a round of applause for his May 17 commentary “Pimlico Race Course was once the place to be, and be seen.” (Appropriately, the article is well placed next to the “Happy anniversary, Baltimore Sun” photo on page 1 of The Sun from May 17, 1837.)

As a college student in the early 1960s, I somehow was too busy then to get myself to Old Hilltop, and especially to wangle an entry into its grand Victorian clubhouse, erected in 1870, shown in the photo. It was amazing, obviously the place to be, and be seen — and bask in its aura, I’m sure. They’d have turned me away at the door.

With its wrap-around, colonnaded portico, surely this Gilded Age structure left its latter-day beholders awestruck at first sight. And the detail of Kelly’s description of the goings-on inside is wonderfully evocative of a style of living virtually lost to us.

We can almost taste the elegant fare of Irish lamb stew or chicken salad provided by the New York caterer; see the well-tricked-out wait staff bustling to serve the in-crowd, including Mayor Thomas D’Alesandro, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover and celebs from New York and Hollywood; and glimpse through the windows at the lucky ones dining at tables on the porch — with the best view of the race.

In June 1966, a nighttime fire razed the storied clubhouse that Kelly saw the remains of and that I could only read about in The Sun.

This building, every inch of it bespeaking Baltimore as much as City Hall, the Patterson Park Pagoda and the H.P. Rawlings Conservatory in Druid Hill Park, seems to live again through Jacques Kelly’s words. My, how this fellow can write!

— Bruce Knauff, Towson