A New York Times business reporter I respected greatly, Constance L. Hays, recently passed away, as noted here yesterday.

I saw her obituary in the back pages of the Philadelphia Inquirer, before I saw the same piece in the Times. I was shocked and saddened to read the news.

I always think almost everyone is older than I am. I am particularly prone to thinking so when it comes to talented writers, a group writ large the membership in which Hays so deservedly earned her highest position. Hays, though, was roughly my age, and I didn’t know that until she expired, a too-early decease stemming from what is called cancer.

I don’t know why I’m writing this right now, except to say that for years I knew and appreciated Hays to be, and for being, an exceptional reporter, smart and fair and all that, and with I being a tough audience, I was all the more impressed by her work, particularly when Hays was assigned to cover the trials of Martha Stewart, a woman greatly respected around these parts, and had that endeavor been assigned to a lesser talent, well, you would have heard an awful lot from me.

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