Happy Trails, Molly

I started reading Molly Ivins when the Dallas Times Herald picked up her column in the late eighties. Her knowledge of the Texas Legislature - what it was and how it worked - was unmatched. She educated a lot of people and I was one of them.

Television was a lousy format for Molly, who needed the nuance of the written word to cajole and edify and charm. She loved language. Armed with a wicked vocabulary, she occasionally delighted in sending readers to the dictionary. Her folksiness didn't always translate well beyond state lines, but it was clear Molly loved being a Texan as much as she loved being a journalist, writer and world class expert on political creatures.

Like the most committed humanitarians, Molly was a fighter. Yet she always strained to see the best in even rotten people - occasionally to the point of treating rabid dogs like big dumb puppies. Though it was sometimes tenuous, she had a faith in the American people that I lack and envy. That's probably the worst thing that could be said of her. She was damn good people and one hell of a public servant.

Goodbye, Molly. You will be missed.