Lessons Learned…
Eric Heiden
In
1980, the Winter Olympics occurred in Lake Placid, New York, and at those games
a shining star emerged in the event of speed skating. A shining star, midwestern
boy, and hometown hero, Eric Heiden won
an unprecedented five gold medals. The hometown was Madison, Wisconsin. Also in 1980, in a third grade classroom just
outside the city limits of Madison, a young student had compiled an amazing,
voluminous photo and article collection
chronicling the successes of his hero, Eric Heiden, and was showing it to a
certain student teacher. I was flabbergasted
by the page after page of beautifully organized and precisely captioned
pictures. In between photos and
articles, Tommy had ever so neatly added his own editorial comments praising
the unmatchable efforts, while recording the untouchable statistics of this
wonderful humble, hometown superhero. Tommy’s work was undoubtedly gold medal
material as well. Somehow responding to the experience of seeing this with
something such as, “Wow, great job!”
seemed to fall tragically short, but what was there to say or to do to
celebrate the magnificence of the project and adequately affirm Tommy? Clearly,
Tommy wasn’t seeking accolades, for the project itself was the prize, but
still, this student teacher’s mind was reeling.
A thought. Tommy, may I bring this home with me over the weekend so that
I can read every page? I promise I will guard it and protect it and return it
to school Monday morning. Sure. Home it went, and it was truly never out of
my sight. I looked up Eric Heiden’s
address, hmmmm, not too far from where this student teacher/ UW-Madison student
lived. He couldn’t possibly be home. He’s probably not even in the country. I
could just drive over to that neighborhood with Tommy’s book. Self-coaching all the while, I discussed
aloud, alone in the car, I will not go to the door because that’s just creepy.
It’s a little creepy that I am even driving to the neighborhood, except that
this is for Tommy. Eric Heiden will not
be home. He is a world famous Olympic Gold Medalist. This is completely
ridiculous. Turn the car around and go home, bring the book back to Tommy on
Monday morning, and Tommy will never know
of this craziness. Convinced that turning around and forgetting about
this was the best answer, I saw him. Eric Heiden was standing in his front
yard, a front yard, as I wasn’t sure if it was his or not. With sweaty palms
and shaking hands, I tried to duck down as I was driving and then realized how
foolish that looked. Brave. Be brave for Tommy. I stopped the car, parked, got
out, and approached Superman while clutching Tommy’s treasure. Eric was
gracious and sweet and kind and loved every page of Tommy’s brilliant book. He laughed, pointed out
things, and reminisced just for a bit, and then, in an act of supreme
perfectness, Eric Heiden wrote a lovely, thoughtful , and infinitely meaningful
message to Tommy. On Monday morning,
before Tommy even had his coat off, he raced to me and asked if I had his
book. Yes.
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