Washington (CNN) -- It was July 29, 1998, the day after two Capitol Police officers were shot and killed on duty.
I was a green producer at the time, sent to the home of Jacob Chestnut just to get some footage. I called Candy, and she asked me to describe the house.
When I was about to hang up, I mentioned to Candy that there was a dented golf ball in the front yard. It was an aside that I didn't think much of, but she asked me to make sure we got video of the golf ball.
Later, when I saw the script, it was abundantly clear why, and how, Candy Crowley is the best writer in television news. Here was the lead:
"It's strange how in a matter of seconds...life's most ordinary things become heartbreaking. A vegetable garden - a dented golf ball. They are details of the life of Officer Jacob Chestnut. Capitol Hill policeman."
Candy's ability to tell a story in a way that captures so much with so few words -- writing to pictures in her inimitable style - is unmatched. But the story of Officer Chestnut also shows what kind of person Candy is at her core: She is a family woman who understands what is really important in life.
Candy's decision to leave CNN after 27 years will leave a void with her colleagues that goes well beyond her journalistic talents.
For most of us, Candy represents the soul of CNN.
It is no surprise that in the deluge of emails she is receiving about her departure, it is the ones about the personal impact she made on people in all corners of the company that mean the most to her.
One email from someone who was once her sound tech on a trip to South Dakota reminded Candy that she suggested he buy a gift for his wife before he went home. He did, and every time his wife sees her on television, she reminds him that she has a cherished piece of jewelry because of Candy's thoughtfulness.
In a cut-throat business full of, let's face it -- lots of divas and tough personalities -- Candy has had one producer for 24 years. The amazing Mike Roselli. Having a producer stay by her side for nearly a quarter century speaks volumes about what kind of person Candy is -- someone who inspires loyalty and love. (Though Mike jokes that it is because he is the only one who can remember her complicated Starbucks' order: triple grande all foam cappuccino, or as he calls it, a cup of air with a drop of milk.)
You know the kind of reporter Candy is by the relationships she forms. In 1996, Senator Bob Dole used to come to the back of his plane to hang out with Candy. In 2000, Governor George W. Bush used to do the same. And of course he gave her a nickname - Dulce.
To be sure -- Candy is also known for her witty, and wonderfully snarky, sense of humor. We can always rely on her to reply all to a political press release with quip that is not only funny, but also cuts through the spin in whatever the politician is saying. She can translate from political-ese into "oh I get it now" English like no one else can.
Candy has won more awards than any one mantel could ever hold: three Emmys, two Dirksens, two Joan Shornstein Barone awards, a Dupont, an Edward R. Murrow award, a Gracie Allen Award, the American News Women's Club Award for Excellence in Journalism, and the list goes on.
Her career began as a newsroom assistant for Metromedia radio on WASH-FM. She became an anchor for the radio network before moving to the Associated Press as a reporter, where she covered the Ronald Reagan White House. She then went to NBC News as correspondent.
Over the years, Candy has been synonymous with television political reporting.
She has been the one viewers turn to learn what is really going on inside the presidential campaigns of Barack Obama, George W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George H.W. Bush, and Ronald Reagan, among others.
When it was time for President George W. Bush to leave office, he chose to speak to Candy.
But her experience is hardly limited to politics.
Candy was at the center of some of the most major stories of our time: the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in the Gulf Coast, the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks, ceremonies marking the 40th anniversary of D-Day on the beaches of Normandy, Ronald Reagan's trips to China, Bitburg, and Bergen-Belsen, the United States 1986 bombing of Libya, and the terrorist bombing of the U.S. Marine barracks in Beirut.
During the impeachment trial of President Bill Clinton, Candy became famous for reading the report from Independent Counsel Ken Starr, which has some racy passages, live on the air.
(Luckily for Candy, a Soap Opera lover, the impeachment trial broke for lunch every day during her program -- "All My Children." She often wondered if the Senators were watching too.)
In 2010, Candy became the only woman host of a Sunday morning interview show. It was a recognition of her years of hard work — thousands of hours and miles logged traveling to 50 states and around the world as a stand-out fixture of TV news.
It was a telling moment because of the way it was received at CNN: with universal delight.
The reaction was the same in 2012, when Candy was chosen to be the first woman to moderate a presidential debate in two decades.
So now, the obvious question -- why is Candy leaving?
The answer is simple, and it's the real deal: She is ready. Anyone who knows Candy, as I am privileged to, knows she has been thinking more and more about making a change for some time. She is at the top of her game, but is ready to try new things.
Now, if a politician said that he or she was leaving to spend more time with the family, Candy would be the first to call "B.S." on it.
But for Candy, it's the truth.
She has two beautiful young grandchildren who are her sun and her moon and everything in between.
Candy raised her two sons as a single mother, while doing all the work that made her a star. And though her sons turned out phenomenally (one is a brain surgeon, the other is a musician), she admits she feels like being a grandmother is "a second chance to be there."
As a working mother all those years, Candy had the "3 B" rule for her boys during the work day. Unless something was burning, bleeding or broken she could not talk much at deadline time.
Now "Candygram" as her grandkids call her (coined by Mr. Roselli), will be able to stay for visits "one more day" if they ask her to.
To be clear -- Candy is not going off into the sunset. She may stay in journalism, but has lot of other interests -- from being a homicide detective to someone who works in mental health.
When I went into Candy's office I told her that I'm happy for her, but selfishly -- for me and other colleagues, especially women, I am sad.
Candy has been a mentor to me for at least 15 years, since the day she called me out of the blue and said "Hi, I was just watching Oprah, and she says women need to reach back and help younger women coming up, so, like, um, do you want to have coffee?"
I was on the assignment desk at the time. After I picked my jaw up and said yes, we did have that coffee and have been friends ever since. She has helped me with my career, and given me advice on how to be a working mother in our crazy business. And I know I am not alone. She is there for everyone, for all of us -- not looking for accolades or fanfare.
Just because she's Candy.
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