Tommy Carden, a nightwatchman at The Poynter Institute where I work, died last week at 82, leaving a hole in many lives, young and old. I was privileged to compose an appreciation of a dear man who was my friend, a surrogate grandpa to my children and many other faculty offspring.
If you ever crossed paths with Tommy, or heard him sing "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling," you will appreciate our loss. If you hadn't, I hope this brief sketch of his life and the impact he had on on people gives you a sense of who he was and why he was so loved.
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