Charles Romans
Reporter
My niece told me once that writers notice everything; but sorry, kiddo that isn’t always true. Now, when your business is telling stories, whether those stories are true or fictional, you do notice a lot of things because it’s all the little things that make up the big things. And sometimes actually missing the big things makes all of the little things mean so much more. In that spirit, let me tell you a story…
A long time ago a friend of ours was talking to my wife and I about a local celebrity, and he asked my wife if she would be able to get him an autograph. My wife just laughed and said that it would embarrass her to ask him for an autograph because she had known him since she was a child, and it would just feel weird. Well, he sort of dropped the subject and after finishing his visit went home. After he had left, she was telling me she felt bad, but again said that it would be strange to ask this celebrity for his autograph. Just making conversation, I said I didn’t need an autograph, but it would be nice to meet this celebrity. And that was when I proved that – at least in my case – writers do not in fact notice everything.
Turns out that I had been drinking coffee nearly every morning at the country store next to my house for the entire winter with Don Gullett.
In my defense (if there is one) we were never what you would call formally introduced. It was just a bunch of guys and sometimes girls sitting around having coffee on cold winter mornings, and there is always room for one more. If you have ever been fortunate to be part of something like that well then you know that the talk is generally about both everything and nothing, and whatever happens to fall between. Hunting and fishing, what’s the best dog and the best bait, the weather and missing whatever season isn’t the current one. We talked about cars and kids – and the ones we had when we were the kids – and whatever anyone might be interested in at that particular moment. Not earthshaking stuff to be sure, unless you consider that those things are really what make up our lives after all.
There were people who knew me and of course those people who knew him, and our names got thrown around enough that we each learned the other’s names. I’d say “Hey, Don,” if he was there when I walked in, and of course he’d say “Hey, Charlie,” back before asking how it was going. Always a pleasant, comfortable conversation about nothing and everything, and he and everyone else there made my day start so much better. And other than a side comment or two that I probably missed because I’m not really a sports guy, I don’t ever remember discussing baseball. In retrospect, I am infinitely grateful.
Over the years I have interviewed a lot of celebrities, and in some cases I have even become friends with some of them. But Don Gullett was special; and I think that is because Don Gullett was Don Gullett more than he was a celebrity. Certainly, he inspired an entire generation of young athletes by stepping out onto the pitcher’s mound in the World Series at the ripe old age of 19, but before and after that he touched people’s lives simply by being friendly and a generally decent human being. And though I did interview him several times in the following years and talked about his career, I think the best interview was when the recorder wasn’t running, and I wasn’t taking notes.
I’m not going to list his accomplishments because two seconds on an internet search engine will give you a better list than I could ever compile. What I will say is that from everything I have heard there wasn’t a sport that didn’t like Don Gullet from the time he was old enough to pick up a ball or a glove. And I’ll tell you that my father-in-law said that Don was better at football than baseball. I’ll even tell you that my wife and a lot of the kids at Lynn School in Greenup got to play baseball with Don pitching. But sadly, even though I would have given anything for that, I wasn’t one of those kids. I do, however, now have an autographed baseball in my dresser at home.
But more important than all that to me is that I got to meet Don Gullett without meeting Don Gullett. I got to talk to him about weeds and ticks and dogs and people without a giant marquee looming over those important conversations. Make no mistake, I am impressed by his unbelievable accomplishments because even though I’m not a “sports guy,” baseball has always been my favorite sport. It’s just that I have always thought that who you are is more important than what you do, no matter how well you do it. And Don Gullett was a genuinely good man, so I am going to remember that more than any statistics or records.