To the left of the story was an article twice its size: "Buddy Hackett, 78, dies at home." The death of the longtime comedian, who has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, also made the evening news. By contrast, the death of author Robert McCloskey, at 88, probably didn't make any TV newscasts, except, perhaps, in Maine, where he lived.

McCloskey may not be well-known, but he contributed far more to my world than Buddy Hackett did. As the author-illustrator of two of my favorite children's books, "Blueberries for Sal" and "Make Way for Ducklings," McCloskey helped me develop a love of children's literature that I've never outgrown. As a kid, I listened to my mom read "Blueberries for Sal" over and over again, giggling at the "kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk" sound the blueberries made as Little Sal dropped them into her tin pail. Each time, I'd wait eagerly for the climax of the story, when Little Sal and Little Bear and their mothers get mixed up while picking berries on Blueberry Hill.

More than two decades later, I read the story to my own daughter with the same inflections my mother's voice had — and my daughter giggles in all the same spots I did.

I remember checking out "Make Way for Ducklings" at Huntington Memorial Library. I was captivated by the idea of a family of ducklings stopping traffic as they crossed a busy Boston street. And that was before I knew the city was a real place.

Fifteen years later, as a college student in Boston, the story took on new resonance. I rode the swan boats in the Boston Public Garden, watching the ducks as they paddled around the pond — and seeing McCloskey's brown-charcoal drawings in my mind. Many of the landmarks in the book — the Charles River, the State House and Beacon Hill — also became landmarks of my college years. I half-expected to see a line of ducklings crossing the street, but I was never so lucky.

Now, when I read the story with my daughter, McCloskey's drawings make me homesick for Boston.

That's the power a beloved children's author wields: to craft a story that transcends generations; to create images that stay etched in readers' minds for years to come.

The Associated Press story about McCloskey's death included a quote from an interview in which he discussed how he came to be a writer.

"It is just sort of an accident that I write books," he said. "I really think up stories in pictures and just fill in between the pictures with a sentence or a paragraph or a few pages of words."

I found myself thinking about that quote days later. McCloskey's drawings are wonderful, but I've always been equally impressed by his way with words and his ability to tell simple, yet compelling, stories. I'm not a visual person. I think in words, not pictures. So I can't imagine starting with images and then adding the prose.

As a writer, and a lover of children's literature, I've fantasized about writing a children's book. What stops my fantasy in its tracks every time is my lack of artistic ability. I know there are countless children's authors who do not illustrate their own books. Some of these books, such as "Goodnight Moon," have become classics. But they will never win my complete admiration. Robert McCloskey and others like him have set too high a standard.

Indeed, all my favorite children's authors illustrated their own books. Besides McCloskey, they are: Don Freeman, author of "Corduroy" and "Norman the Dorman"; Crockett Johnson, who dreamed up Harold and his ever-present purple crayon; H.A. Rey, creator of Curious George; and, of course, Dr. Seuss, whose silly rhymes and classic characters are too numerous to name.

Even in death, McCloskey has inspired me. In reading about his life, I realized I've only read two of his eight children's books. On my visits to Huntington Library this summer, I plan to look up the remaining titles.

Who knows? I may just discover another treasure to share with my daughter.

Lisa Miller is a freelance writer who lives in Oneonta. She can be reached at lisamiller44@hotmail.com.