Tag: writing

I was 10 years old in 1968. That year, I built a soap box derby car. I have a fond memory of my father helping me build it—as much as the rules allowed.

When race day came, they set my car and two others on the starting ramp. The ramp was on a road by Lake Ontario that had a steep hill. They let the cars go, and off I went down the hill.

The kid in the next lane swerved into mine, and to avoid hitting him, I turned into the snow fence that lined the road. My wheel caught in the wire, spun the car around, and bent the axle. Needless to say, I didn’t win the race.

Afterward, my father got talking to the men running the race, and soon he joined the committee that was planning a new track. Not long after, he told me he was going on a trip to Akron, Ohio, with other members of the committee for the big national soap box derby day—to see how their track was set up. And he said I could come along.

So my father, I, and others from the committee—and their kids—took a road trip from Rochester, New York, to Akron. We stayed in a fancy hotel for a day or two before the big event. I made friends with another kid, and we noticed a lot of real celebrities were staying there because they were going to be in the big parade on race day.

That gave us a clever idea: we’d hang out in the lobby by the elevator to watch the celebrities come and go.

Once, we saw the actor Lorne Greene from the TV show Bonanza making his way through the crowd in the lobby. He had a man with him clearing a path, and they were heading straight for the elevator. We positioned ourselves right by the doors, and as Lorne Greene and his assistant went in, we slipped in just before the doors closed.

Now, we were just a couple of kids, and we barely knew what to say except “hi.” Lorne Greene reached out and shook each of our hands. We rode with him silently until he reached his floor. He was such a nice guy—friendly and patient—and he didn’t scold us for sneaking in.

It’s one of those memories that has stayed with me all my life—not just the race, but that whole adventure with my dad.

Years later, I almost met Jesse Jackson. I was on a plane in coach, and I could see him a few rows up in first class. Only a few times in my life have I encountered people who seemed larger than life. It’s hard to describe, but they seem to glow with some kind of spiritual power. I don’t know much about him personally, but that was the impression I got from a distance.

For anyone unfamiliar, Reverend Jesse Jackson was a major figure in the civil rights movement, working alongside Martin Luther King Jr. in the 1960s. He later ran for president in the 1980s, becoming the first African American to seriously contend for a major party’s nomination. Known for his powerful oratory and his message of justice and hope, Jackson inspired millions with his phrase “Keep hope alive.”

So while I can’t claim to have met many famous people, I’ve had a few brushes with them—and what I remember most isn’t the fame, but the feeling of being in the presence of someone who carried themselves with grace.