SWEET WITHOUT THE BITTER

Saturday was the day we remembered Chris Sifford, the journalist and political operative who died with Missouri Gov. Mel Carnahan and the governor's son in a 2000 plane crash.

Eidolons appeared at Hammons Field and we gratefully joined them, because for the first time since Sifford's death we were all together, we lucky few.

Old radio hands -- Wad and Libby, Daues and Griese, Smitty and Missy -- shook hands and clapped backs. The newspaper gang was there, too -- BK and CRKT and LAW and Nachos; Chick and SRK and ah, Ed -- mingling easily with JJ and Daues, the boys from TV.

Chick has gone grey. Ed's shaven face made us remember the days when he sported a partial beard and a pipe. CRKT reminded us that the Ed of those days was intimidating, almost terrifying. Ed responded with a cackle that we didn't realize we missed until we heard it.

There was not the expected outpouring of Cliffy anecdotes. This was good because the telling of tales was unnecessary, especially among spirits from the past. We remember what we lived. Imperfect memories, to be sure, but perhaps this is best. The blur of moving forward disguises rough passages.

Too soon the day was over. With fake nonchalance we said goodbye to the apparitions and pretended to face forward to greet the future.