In a Roundabout Way

James Earl Jones passed away this week. In a roundabout way, the death of this remarkable man, acclaimed actor, universally recognizable voice—that of Darth Vader and King Mufasa—brings to mind the two most memorable celebrations of my birth.

Can’t remember the exact year. My son Casey, just now turned 25, was an age that had him playing Little League baseball. I was coaching his team. For my birthday, he and my wife accompanied me on a pilgrimage to Dyersville, Iowa.

We’d come to Iowa for reasons many can’t even fathom, driving down one back road and then several more before turning up a gravel driveway. The owners of this property didn’t mind if we looked around. We were first to arrive this particular morning, had the shrine to ourselves for a time. Broke out some gear we’d brought along on the trip—a bat, gloves, some hardballs.

Casey and I had us a catch. Then he grabbed a bat, him heading for home plate, me making my way to the mound. No sooner had he settled into the batter’s box …