Love and...

I found out Wayne had died while on deadline.

I had just finished proofing my last page and was waiting for the copy editor to make the corrections and drop it into the system for final approval when I pulled up Facebook.

An old friend and former boss, Carl Whitehill, had posted a link to Wayne Kindness's obituary with the words, "Sad news ... good memories at The Evening Sun."

I felt my stomach drop.

"OH NO," I typed before clicking on the link.

The 69-year-old had been battling health problems since I met him in May 2001. He'd been in and out of the hospital several times over the past year, as he noted in his Facebook postings. So I guess it shouldn't have been a surprise.

Still, I couldn't help but feel shocked.

He was the assistant city editor at The Evening Sun in Hanover, Pa., for many years. Before that, he'd been a reporter, photographer and copy editor, and even run his own dirt-track racing publication.

He was a good guy and a good journalist.

He had a police scanner by his side at the desk — bringing in his own, not relying on the two already squawking in the newsroom.

After our 9 a.m. deadline (before his hip surgery) he'd bring a honeybun or bear claw or other sweet pastry back from the break room vending machine before setting to work on the next day's ROP pages.

But perhaps the thing I'll remember most about him was the way he told people how to spell his last name.

"Wayne Kindness. Just like 'love and....'"

Rest easy, big guy.