February 1978

BREAK OF A LIFETIME
 

"Mrs. Ballantyne, would you mind telling me about your break of a lifetime?"

"Yes, of course.  It started with my brother George, but I will tell my side first.  In 1937 I was 17 and the country was in the midst of the Depression era.  Money was tight in my aunt and uncle's home, so college was out of the question.  I was resigned to finding whatever work I could after high school, but I nursed a secret desire to go to college.  Besides tennis, I had nothing else to do but study.  I made straight A's, but what difference did that make?  I was a girl raised in a family that did not value education for girls.  In the eyes of Uncle Gus, girls don't need to go to college.  They learn how to put on makeup, look pretty, get married and get pregnant.  That was the expectation.  Besides, what difference did it make if I wanted to go to college.  There was no money in our home.  Money was very tight during the Depression." 

"So where does Sam Maceo come in?  You were living in San Antonio, right?"

"Yes, I was living in San Antonio and I had not thought about Mr. Maceo in years.  I had given up on my college dreams.  Seriously, I had no idea where the money would come from.  I ordered myself to quit thinking about it because it made me so depressed.  Then one day my brother George sent me some money he had saved up.  He included a note that told me to use it for college.  Thanks to George, I was able to attend Mary Hardin-Baylor, a women's school in Belton, Texas."

"But that doesn't make any sense.  I thought you said George was poor just like you."

"I see you have been paying attention.  Yes, George was very poor.  And he didn't have any help.  He had to work all sorts of part-time jobs just to stay in school, so I asked myself the same question you just did.  Do you want to know the real story??"

My eyes widened at the strange look on her face.  I nodded and said yes.  When I saw Mrs. Ballantyne frown, I had a hunch this was going to be a doozy.  Turned out I was right.

"Rick, it is one thing to say a gangster paid for college, that is shocking enough.  However I don't share the details very often.  Back when you and my children went to St. John's, this was a story I did not dare tell anyone.  However, we've gone this far so I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you what really happened.

To be honest, when I saw the money order that came with George's letter, I was very skeptical.  I was almost certain there was something George was not telling me.  I knew for a fact that George could barely pay his own way to A&M.  For that matter, the previous year, George had almost gotten himself thrown out of Texas A&M because he could not pay his tuition.  So where did this money come from?  Unfortunately George refused to tell me for the longest time.  He was so secretive I began to wonder if he had robbed a bank.  I was worried about George, but decided for the time being the less I knew, the better.  I was enjoying my newfound freedom too much to lose this college opportunity by being nosy." 

"So what happened after that?"

"I am not sure when or how, but at some point George found out that Sam Maceo went behind my father's back.  Mr. Maceo was a very intelligent man.  He found it very unlikely that a loser like my father had a son who was the top student at A&M.  This was so difficult to believe that he became curious to know if my father had been telling the truth or was just trying to hustle up some gambling money.  So Mr. Maceo made inquiries.  Not only was my father telling the truth, he learned that George was barely scraping by.  Mr. Maceo was so impressed, he made sure George got a big surprise.  Mr. Maceo sent word to George that he wanted to pay the remaining tuition for George to graduate.  George was overwhelmed.  He had no idea what was going on, but that offer had come at the perfect time.  George vowed never to forget what Mr. Maceo had done for him."

"So George received the same gift as you, but his scholarship came first."

"Yes.  And I think Mr. Maceo was so impressed with George that he decided to take a gamble on me as well."

"Mrs. Ballantyne, I'm confused about something.  How did George find out your father had split the money in half?"

"George is the kind of guy who refuses to leave a rock unturned.  After Sam Maceo contacted him, he could not rest until he understood why a man who barely knew him had been so kind.  George was suspicious of his father in the same way that Mr. Maceo had been suspicious.  Where on earth did his deadbeat father come up with $50 on short notice?   At some point, George confronted his father and got the story about the money order.  But he did not realize his father had split the money.  That came later.  A few years after George graduated from A&M, he met someone from Maceo's organization who knew the inside scoop.  First George learned his father had split the money.  Then he discovered Mr. Maceo had personally checked on him with Texas A&M.  Apparently Maceo had not believed a word my father told him.  Top student in his class?  Ridiculous.  The thought of some immigrant kid from Galveston standing at the top of his class was unheard of, much less a kid with a father like ours."

"What was George's reaction?"

"Oh my, George was blown away.  Finally everything began to make sense.  He understood immediately why Mr. Maceo had contacted Texas A&M.  Let's face it, my father didn't have much credibility, so Mr. Maceo had every right to be suspicious.  Very few children of the immigrants here in Galveston were good students.  Therefore, if it was true, that accomplishment would put George head and shoulders above the rest.  When Mr. Maceo found out that George was indeed at the top of his class, he wanted to help.  Like I said, Mr. Maceo was an immigrant just like my father, so he knew first-hand how tough it was to make it here in America.  Mr. Maceo knew my father was a dubious character, so this told him George had to be pretty special to overcome the death of his mother and his father's abandonment.  After pegging George as an ambitious kid who was determined to rise beyond his circumstances, from this point on Mr. Maceo sent regular money wires to pay the tuition."

"Did George ever meet Sam Maceo in person?"

"That's a good question, but I don't know the answer.  I don't think they had ever spoken prior to Mr. Maceo's decision to hand my father the $100 bill.  However, after that, yes, they communicated by wire.  And I imagine they spoke in person when George visited Galveston.  However, I don't know the details.  Mind you, the entire story was unbeknownst to me at the time.  For much of my first year of college I had no idea Mr. Maceo was helping George or me.  So here is what I think happened.  Mr. Maceo was so impressed with George that one day he remembered me from our days chatting at the Snug Harbor restaurant.  Since I lived in San Antonio, at some point Mr. Maceo asked my father how I was doing.  Mike replied that I had the harebrained idea to go to college, but there wasn't any money.  Typical of my father, he quickly added that it didn't matter. 

"Don't worry about Maria, she don't need no college.  She can get a job as a clerk, type a little, answer the phone.  Or better yet, she's pretty.  She can get married and have babies."

I was a girl, so what difference did it make if I wanted to go to college?  That's my father for you.  What a prince.  But Mr. Maceo saw things differently.  Without telling my father, he contacted George.  When George told him I made straight A's in high school and was dying to go to college, Mr. Maceo told George he would like to pay my way to college.  That's what I think happened.  Sam Maceo was a better father to me than my own father."

"But wasn't it risky taking money from a mobster?  Don't they always expect something in return?"

Seeing the curious expression on my face, Mrs. Ballantyne shrugged her shoulders. 

"Well, to begin with, since I did not know where the money was coming from, I accepted it guilt-free.  If there were any strings attached, no one ever told me.  When George sent the money, I was overjoyed, but I was also suspicious.  I wrote George and demanded to know where he got the money.  He fibbed and explained he had saved up extra money from his summer job.  Furthermore, now that he had found a good job at school, George promised to keep sending money.  He added how pleased he was to finally be in position to help.  I took his word for it and enrolled in college.  However, I still had my doubts.  Finally I couldn't take it anymore.  I had to know what was going on.  The next time I saw George in person, it was Thanksgiving.  I pulled him aside and asked him to explain a little more about that extra job he had mentioned.  When George got one of those deer in the headlights expressions, I saw right through him.

"Okay, George," I demanded, "it's time to fess up.  Did you rob a bank?"

"No, no, Maria, it's not like that.  There's nothing for you to worry about."

"Bullshit!  You tell me the truth right now or I'm going to drop out of college and get pregnant with the first boy I meet!"

George didn't know whether I was bluffing or not, but he saw how mad I was at being deceived and caved in on the spot.  He admitted that Sam Maceo was paying my way.  I was so shocked you could have knocked me over with a feather.  George said that Mr. Maceo had been so impressed by his performance at Texas A&M, he decided to help out his shy sister as well.  Mr. Maceo promised George he would pay my way to Mary Hardin-Baylor for all four years."

Mrs. Ballantyne paused to sip her coffee, then continued. 

"At first I didn't know what to think.  It was strange to find my education bankrolled by the Godfather, but then I realized I didn't care.  The Sam Maceo I knew was a man I respected.  He was not violent.  He was polite to everyone, very outgoing.  He cared about little people like me and George.  He never insulted people, but they got his message anyway.  In the eyes of many, Sam Maceo was seen more as a benefactor than evil presence.  He came all the way from Sicily without any money or education, yet here he was the most important man in the city.  I admired him for that. 

People called him 'Mr. Galveston' and I can see why.  He was more businessman than mobster.  Let me give you an example.  After the great storm, they built a seawall and placed the fabulous Galvez Hotel right on the beach.  They hoped tourism would revive the economy, but it didn't work.  The hotel stayed largely empty.  Mr. Maceo saw an opening and built a popular casino called the Balinese Room right across the street from the Hotel Galvez.  Pure magic.  Now people flocked from all over Texas to the island to stay at the Galvez, see a show, have a drink and gamble.  He brought in headliners like Bob Hope and Frank Sinatra.  People from all over the country headed to Galveston.  The next thing you know, the hotel was booked solid.  Sam Maceo put the economy of Galveston on his back on and personally restored prosperity. 

Unfortunately his business was illegal due to Prohibition.  But most people on the island thought Prohibition was sheer idiocy.  There were a lot of people who liked to drink bootleg liquor and a lot of people who liked to gamble.  As for prostitution, who was I to judge?  Okay, Mr. Maceo was a gangster who broke the law, but in my eyes he was a good man.

I was young at the time and didn't really understand why Mr. Maceo was helping me.  Later on, George and I talked about it.  George believed Mr. Maceo understood the importance of education as a way to give the children of immigrants equal footing here in America.  He knew how tough it was to be an immigrant.  For that reason, he helped everyone if he believed they were trying hard. 

What mattered to Sam Maceo was that George and I were good kids.  He also knew how poorly my father had treated us.  To him, that wasn't right.  In his book, we both deserved better.  Even though we had gotten some rotten breaks, Mr. Maceo was impressed that George and I continued to work hard in school without any encouragement.  I believe our situation must have reminded him of himself when he landed in America.  That is why Mr. Maceo felt a kinship to both of us.  He was Italian, we were Greek, but that didn't matter to him.  He wanted to help the children of immigrants on the island succeed.  "Galveston needs to nurture its native sons."  He felt a responsibility to lift us up.  That is the way I remember Sam Maceo."

Mrs. Ballantyne got quiet for a moment, then laughed.

"I have to tell you something.  My brother told me how impressed Mr. Maceo was when George graduated at the top of his petroleum engineering class.  He was just as proud of my brother as if George was his own son.  Mr. Maceo sent George a message saying he hoped George would do great things, but he also wanted to see George do an outstanding job as a father.  George took that to heart.  Due to his tough childhood, he was determined to be the best parent possible.  And he succeeded.  George became a great father.  He has 11 children and all of them are great kids.

Mrs. Ballantyne raised her hand and swept it in panorama-style to include the family pictures on tables and the living room wall.

"These pictures tell the story.  These pictures show what Sam Maceo did for me.  I spent my childhood dreaming that I would someday have a family like this.  You have no idea the pain I felt when my family disintegrated around me after my mother died.  My father was a confused man.  He had no business walking away from his duty to me and George.

After the way my father treated me, I was bound and determined that when I grew up, I would do so much better with my own children.  It is a parent's responsibility to make sure her children are elevated to better, more beneficial positions in life.  I have done that.  I have my home, my marvelous husband and seven college-educated children.  Not just that, they are the best children any mother could ever hope for.  I could not possibly be more proud of then.  Who would ever believe a story like mine?"

Then she turned to smile at me. 

"I suppose Mr. Maceo got such a kick out of helping George, he decided to try it again with me.  Can you imagine??  A girl?  A nobody kid like me?  What a break!  And totally unexpected.  I could not be more grateful.  Now I had my chance just like George did.  I owe my college education to Sam Maceo.  George too.  We both owe so much to this man."

I don't tell my gangster story to very many people.  Most people would not understand why I took money from a mobster.  They would look down their noses.  I know a lot of people like that.  So now you know the secret of my success.  Sam Maceo is the reason I escaped my trap and found a way to become my own person.  I could not believe how lucky I was.  Who would have imagined that a man who barely knew me would pay my way to college?"

It was 4 pm.  Mrs. Ballantyne had been speaking for close to four hours.  At the conclusion of the Sam Maceo story, I thought this was my chance to ask questions regarding her surprise appearance at my grocery store ten years earlier as well as today's surprise visit to the dance studio.  Just when I had worked up the courage to speak, Dr. Ballantyne appeared for the second time.  At first I imagined he wondered why I was still here.  However, he was so oblivious to my presence I had to assume he was used to seeing strangers in his house.  Or maybe he was just very preoccupied.

Dr. Ballantyne had a huge frown on his face and looked upset.  Something was wrong.  As Mrs. Ballantyne rose to see what was bothering him, she had a worried look on her face.  I watched quietly as Dr. Ballantyne and his wife talked over by the kitchen.  Suddenly Mrs. Ballantyne turned and pointed to me sitting in the living room.  Now for the first time Dr. Ballantyne noticed me as well.  What was this all about?  Just then Mrs. Ballantyne asked me to join them. 

"Rick, could I ask you a big favor?"

"Sure.  What do you need?"

"There is a cold front coming into town this evening.  Temperatures are expected to hit the low 20s.  Jay is worried the freeze could easily destroy his tropical plant collection.  He has been up on the roof all day trying to cover our open-air atrium with plastic for protection, but he is getting nowhere because it is a two-man job and the wind is driving him crazy.  Now he is running out of time.  He is really worried he can't get the job done in time to save his plants.  Do you by chance have an hour to spare?"

I smiled.  "Of course.  I'm not busy.  I would be glad to help."

Due to the odd configuration of their house, there was a niche of sorts where Dr. Ballantyne's large collection of warm-weather tropical plants resided.  I had been admiring these plants all day thanks to the large viewing window in the living room.  However, I had no idea these plants were the reason Dr. Ballantyne had been on the roof.  Without cover, they were vulnerable to the coming threat. 

Fortunately Dr. Ballantyne had a solution.   He attached a long rope to the free end of the plastic.  I waited on one side while Dr. Ballantyne walked across the roof to the other side.  Once he was in position, I threw the long rope across the atrium.  From there Dr. Ballantyne used the rope to pull the plastic across the divide.  Once the plastic was properly stretched, he could hammer it in.  Considering how difficult the wind made our task, I could not imagine how he ever thought he could accomplish this without help. 

Dr. Ballantyne was not satisfied with just one layer.  What if it rained?  The weight of the rainwater sitting on a low part might collapse the temporary roof and ruin everything.  Feeling that one roll of plastic was insufficient to guarantee protection, we repeated the process three times.

Dr. Ballantyne and I spoke little during the project.  Unlike his gregarious wife, Dr. Ballantyne was a reserved, formal man who carried himself with great dignity.  Dr. Ballantyne was also quite the workhorse.  Unwilling to take any chance of losing his valuable plants, he refused to take a break until the job was done.  I admired him.  He had been up here all day.

We were closing in on the end of our third hour.  As afternoon became evening and evening approached night, I was amused by the steady transformation in his features.  Slowly but surely, Dr. Ballantyne's deep frown was replaced by a greatly-relieved smile.  As darkness rolled in, the temperature dropped rapidly just as predicted.  It was freezing out there!  Having spent the afternoon appreciating the beauty of his tropical plants, I now understood why his collection was a source of so much pride.  It would be a shame to lose his rain forest.  Dr. Ballantyne was wise to cover the open area or he would have lost every one of those plants.

MAGIC CARPET RIDE

Serious

Coincidence
Pay it Forward
Act of Kindness

Serious

Coincidence
Second Meeting

ST. JOHN'S

Ultra Serious

EPILOGUE: GEORGE MITCHELL
 

Rick Archer's Note:

It was not until 2015 that I discovered that Maria's mysterious brother George was a billionaire.  I was beyond flabbergasted.  During his illustrious career, George Mitchell had many accomplishments. 

First and foremost, George Mitchell is credited as the man who freed America from dependence on Arab oil.  He accomplished this through fracking technology.

“George Mitchell is the father of fracking.   Mitchell's fracking technique is by far the most important energy innovation of this century.  It is because of George Mitchell that today we are able to talk seriously about ‘energy independence’ here in the United States."  
        -- Daniel Yergin, oil-industry historian

George Mitchell went on to create The Woodlands, an affluent city just north of Houston that is enveloped within a thick Texas pine forest.  Mitchell was an early conservationist who became a persistent voice for environmentally-responsible economic growth.  His master plan called for preserving trees, protecting the environment, minimizing flooding and creating ways to blend homes and forest together.

Mitchell is credited with spearheading the economic recovery of Galveston, his hometown.  His master stroke was luring the cruise industry to the city.  Galveston is now the fourth largest cruise port in the country. 

Grateful for the education he received at Texas A&M, Mitchell became the leading donor in the history of the school.  Mr. Mitchell is very much revered at A&M.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

FAREWELL TO A FRIEND
 

Maria Ballantyne is important to me for three reasons.  Our parking lot encounter in 1968 to my life-changing search for God.  Our 1978 talk in her living room is the reason I learned value of Kindness.  Now let me add that Maria inspired my writing career. 

When the Internet came into existence in the late Nineties, I discovered that sharing interesting stories from my dance career in the studio's Email Newsletter increased readership.  However, the day came in 2005 when my treasure chest of dance anecdotes ran dry.  Why restrict myself to dance stories?  Maybe I could share personal stories. 

My first choice was the 1968 Parking Lot Meeting with Mrs. Ballantyne.  As one might guess, A Simple Act of Kindness was the precursor to both the Hidden Hand of God as well as the Magic Carpet Ride.  Here is how I concluded my 2005 origin story. 

"This has been the story of how a 45 minute talk in a parking lot made all the difference in the world to me.  Mrs. Ballantyne's gentle words helped me overcome a terrible crisis.  A key point is how she and other people came along at key times during my childhood to point me in the right direction when I was about to lose my way.

Someday I am going to come across a kid who clearly needs a lift.  Perhaps I will know the child well or maybe just barely.  And when I get my opportunity, I hope a few kind words and suggestions of my own will have the same healing effect that Mrs. Ballantyne's conversation had on me many many years ago. 

I will do this because I have learned the power of a Simple Act of Kindness."

When the story turned out to be a huge hit, I was encouraged to write more personal stories.  However, I was careful to adhere to one rule: Do not discuss God.  Do not hint of the Supernatural.  Just tell the story and let Readers draw their own conclusion.  I did this specifically to avoid ridicule.  Look at it this way.  I ran a dance studio, not a church.  Why take a risk?  Better to swim in my own lane.

Several months later Katina, age 9, daughter of Maria's son Christie, found my story on the Internet and told her grandmother.  Intrigued, Mrs. Ballantyne took a look.  Deeply touched by my tale of her immense impact on my life, Mrs. Ballantyne called to thank me.  We met for lunch the next day and renewed our acquaintance. 

Over a period of 47 years, I met with Maria Ballantyne three more times, six occasions in all.  Here is a time line to help keep track.

Following our 2005 lunch visit, Mrs. Ballantyne disappeared from sight for four years.  It was now 2009.  Periodically over the past year her son Christie and his wife Yasmine had been taking private lessons to learn Swing dancing.  On Friday, November 6, Christie and Yasmine dropped by his mother's house to visit for an hour.  When Christie looked at his watch, Mrs. Ballantyne asked where he was going.

"Yasmine and I have a private dance lesson with Rick Archer at 6 pm."

Mrs. Ballantyne's ears perked up.  On the spur of the moment, she asked if she could tag along. 

Christie said, "Of course.  Hop in the car, Mom!"

Imagine my surprise when none other than the illustrious Maria Ballantyne walked into my studio along with Christie and Yasmine.  I was delighted to see my surprise guest.  Although Mrs. Ballantyne was 89, she seemed alert as ever.  She moved well too.  I was impressed.  This lady was indestructible.  Must have been all that tennis.  In addition, Mrs. Ballantyne was as sassy as ever.  She immediately chewed me out.

"Rick Archer, I am so mad at you!"

Taken aback, I exclaimed, "I'm confused.  What did I do wrong this time?"

First she gave me a dirty look, then Mrs. Ballantyne launched into a teasing tirade.

"I am mad because you haven't been to see me!  You made me come all the way here tonight because you are so thoughtless!"

I immediately grinned.  What a character!  Never a dull moment.  With a smile, I apologized.  "I am so sorry, Mrs. Ballantyne.  Will you ever forgive me?"

"I doubt it.  But if you can successfully teach my left-footed son to dance, I will consider it.  Come talk to me later."

After the lesson I went to speak with Mrs. Ballantyne.  I was stunned when she confided that Mr. Salls, my St. John's Headmaster, had been one of her closest friends.  Then she told me story that took me completely off-guard.  Several months after the 1968 parking lot encounter, Mr. Salls was at her house.  Mrs. Ballantyne took the opportunity to ask him what he knew about me. 

Mr. Salls began by saying he always kept a close eye on me.  Apparently Mr. Salls had a tough childhood very similar to mine and felt great empathy for the plight I was in.  When Mrs. Ballantyne asked how he knew this, Mr. Salls replied, "Rick trusted Ed Curran, his English teacher, with the details of his broken home.  When Ed turned around and confided in me, I realized for the first time that Rick was practically raising himself.  His mother was broke and I feared his father would drop the ball regarding college tuition.  For that reason, I took the preemptive measure of arranging a college scholarship behind his back."

I gasped when I heard this.  Over the past 40 years, not once did I suspect Mr. Salls had been involved.  The entire time I had credited Ralph O'Connor, the wealthy oilman, for contacting Mr. Salls to say he had a scholarship available.  I stunned to realize I had gotten it completely wrong.  It was Mr. Salls who contacted Mr. O'Connor.  Curious to know why my Headmaster had kept his generosity a secret, Mrs. Ballantyne explained the line would have been out the door if St. John's parents knew Mr. Salls did favors for certain students. 

That same night, I went home and turned the "Mrs. Ballantyne" story had turned into the "Mr. Salls and Mrs. Ballantyne" story.  The updated version was a good story.  At twice the length of my 2005 origin story, it was something akin to Oliver Twist meets St. John's.  After posting my updated story on the studio website.  I was pleased to receive a new round of warm compliments. 

One year later, Mrs. Ballantyne visited me again at the dance studio.  She wasted no time sharing with new revelations about St. John's and Mr. Salls.  Yet again, I went back to my ever-growing story for an update.  Realizing my story lacked depth, for the first time I added personal details covering my nine years at St. John's.  As one can see, every time I met with Maria Ballantyne, my original 2005 story doubled in size. 

In early 2015, I met Kim Salls, oldest son of Mr. Salls.  As he shared information about his father, I was incredulous to learn Mr. Salls had grown up dirt poor on a small island off the coast of Maine.  After the death of his father and older brother, he became an only child tasked with helping his beleaguered mother pay the bills with odd jobs after school.  Upon high school graduation, Mr. Salls became the recipient of a scholarship first to Exeter Academy which he parlayed into a scholarship to Harvard University.  Kim Salls said his father considered these scholarships to be the luckiest breaks of his life.

Now I understood why Mrs. Ballantyne had said I reminded Mr. Salls of himself.  Seeing me struggle reminded him of his own struggles.  Recalling how scholarships had been instrumental in rescuing him from childhood poverty, Mr. Salls decided to bestow the favor of a college scholarship on me.  Based on what Kim Salls and Maria Ballantyne had told, the word 'Weird' crossed my mind.  I was struck by how unusual it was that three people who had grown up poor had also been the recipients of incredible strokes of good fortune.  It was strange enough that three former underdogs had ended up at St. John's, land of the Alpha dogs, but it was even stranger that these same three people became intimately connected to each other.  To me, it was like Mrs. Ballantyne and Mr. Salls had teamed up to make sure I was given a fighting chance in life despite my handicaps.  To me, I was convinced that 'Fate' was involved. 

I was dying to add the revelations shared by Kim Salls to my story, but did I dare add the Supernatural element of my relationship to Mr. Salls and Mrs. Ballantyne?  After much debate, I gave in.  My updated story contained references to Fate, God and the possibility of Divine Intervention.  No doubt there would be critics who would ridicule my mystical mumbo jumbo.  Others would challenge my right to speak of metaphysical things about which I knew little.  And of course there would be snickers about my sanity.  However, my conscience said it would be dishonest to remain quiet my mystical beliefs.  And so I laid it all out for all the world to see.  For the first time, my ever-evolving book crossed the Supernatural barrier.  I was glad.  It was the right thing to do. 

However, my decision created a major headache.  Would Mrs. Ballantyne approve of my changes?  So far the only thing she had read were highly-sanitized, non-Supernatural versions of the 1968 Parking Lot event plus some nice words about Mr. Salls.  She had no idea my most recent draft revealed my unusual beliefs.  How would Mrs. Ballantyne feel about being included in a book which covered controversial territory such as Divine Intervention?  There was a chance Mrs. Ballantyne would rather not to be associated with my far-out ideas.  Preferring not to blind-side her, I decided my long-time friend deserved the right to express her opinion. 

Using her son Christie as an intermediary, I received permission to visit her house on Tuesday morning, January 20.  I was very tense as I drove to her house.  What would I do if Mrs. Ballantyne objected?  Plus I was sad to learn my aging friend was in poor health.  This was no surprise.  After all, the lady was 94.  At that age, something was bound to go wrong.  With a heavy heart, I feared this would be the last time I would ever see her.  I was greeted at the door by a maid.  Ushered in, I found Mrs. Ballantyne sitting at the dining table.  Although I was glad to see her, I was alarmed to discover Christie's warning about her increasing frailty was correct.  Alas, the seemingly indestructible Maria Ballantyne was human after all. 

Fortunately, her mind was sharp.  Mrs. Ballantyne recognized me immediately and gave me a warm smile.  Her first words were, "Rick Archer, I know you!  You were in Katina's class at St. John's!" 

I was happy to see her in a good mood.  Mrs. Ballantyne always had the knack to make me feel like the most important person in the world.  Determined to know if she had any objections, it was now or never.  Taking a deep breath, I spoke up.

"Mrs. Ballantyne, I am not sure what Christie told you, but I came here today to ask your permission to tell the story of your difficult childhood as well as the circumstances of our parking lot meeting.  As you recall, back in 2005 I wrote an Internet story about the time you came to my rescue.  I am sure you had a million important things to do on the day you came to my grocery store, but you had the empathy to stay with me until you were sure I was past my crisis.  I have long believed that your life and mine are linked in a special way.  My updated story reflects my belief that God led you to my side.  For that reason I would very much like to tell the world why you are so important to me."

Mrs. Ballantyne smiled.  Without hesitation, she replied, "Yes, Rick, I remember your story well.  It was a very nice story, so of course you have my permission." 

As she spoke, Mrs. Ballantyne had that familiar twinkle in her eye.  But then her expression suddenly changed to a frown.  Uh oh.  Something had just crossed her mind.  Mrs. Ballantyne's brow furrowed as she said, "But only on one condition!"

I stopped breathing.  With my heart thumping wildly with anxiety, I asked myself what could it be.  Mrs. Ballantyne was the undisputed star of my book!!  I would die if she said no.  Just then a big grin came over Mrs. Ballantyne's face.

"Rick, you have to promise me you will tell the story of the time I beat my brother George at tennis when he was captain of the A&M varsity!!!"  

When she flashed that huge smile of hers, I knew she was teasing.  What a goofy thing to ask for!  I shook my head in wonder.  At age 94 Maria Ballantyne still had her sense of humor.  However I also sensed she was completely serious.