Everyone was in on the deception...except me

Just before she went to bed last Monday, my daughter Maya came to give me my nightly hug.

“Good job tonight,” she said.

I don’t know if she meant “good job” on the blubbering speech I’d given a couple hours prior or if she really meant “congratulations” for the reason I was giving that impromptu speech.

But I didn’t care.

She acknowledged it and that was enough for me.

I do what I do because I love what I do and I’m one of the fortunate few in this world who gets paid to do such a thing.

But I also do what I do - now - for Maya and her mother.

So when I was pulled up to the stage at the Kingfisher Chamber of Commerce’s annual banquet and then had my attention directed to the back of the room to see, among others, my wife and daughter, I about lost it.

• • •

Shauna Rupp straight up lied to me.

The chamber’s executive director called me to her new office on Jan. 26, less than a week before the Chamber of Commerce banquet.

She told me my boss, Barry Reid, was going to be named “Citizen of the Year” and that Christine Reid, the newspaper’s senior editor, was going to introduce him.

Obviously it was to be kept top secret. If only I knew then what I know now...

Shauna was asking me who else at the newspaper might she extend an invitation to so they could see their boss get recognized.

She also wanted to make sure I’d be there with some form of camera to record the events of the evening.

Of course, I said.

“Boots & Bling” was the theme.

I’m the one. I’m the guy in Kingfisher who doesn’t own a pair of boots.

However, I had a feeling that I might end up in some pictures with my boss, so I wanted to look presentable.

Thank goodness I wore a suit (minus the tie).

As the evening began Monday, I wondered how Barry would handle giving a speech after being surprised with his award and in front of such a large crowd.

Would he kill it? Would he freeze? Would he tell a really bad joke? Would he embarrass Mary? Would he embarrass me? (Selfish, I know.)

As it turns out, I worried for nothing.

Christine was introduced to the crowd. So far everything was going as planned.

She mentioned something about a “sports department” and a 22-year-old being hired at the paper.

It still hadn’t hit me. Everyone has written sports at this paper. So many of us have been hired as a 22-yearold on this staff that I’ve lost track of who all it was.

So it very much was still Barry getting the award in my mind.

Then I heard the words “Dover” and “Auburn.” My head sank. Shauna had lied to me. And several people were in on it.

So when Christine finished her introduction proclaiming Michael Swisher as the 2021 Kingfisher Citizen of the Year, I began my long walk to the stage as my head was absolutely spinning. (As an aside, it angers me that Christine can write the introduction she did in an hour or less…it would have taken me parts of three days to complete such a task, but that’s the talent she possesses.)

I got to the stage and was met by Morgan Kottwitz Winters and Christine and Shauna and Sen. Darcy Jech and Rep. Mike Dobrinski.

Each of them said something to me; I have no idea what it was.

My mind was still swirling.

How had I - someone who prides himself on being able to pull one over on others - been duped?

Was I going to have to say something? Did Scott Osborn last year? Did Mike Sanders the year before? Yes, they did.

What was I going to say? I’m a writer, not a speaker.

I hope my pants are zipped.

All those things and more made their way through my brain in a span of just a few seconds, though it felt like minutes.

Then someone, I’m not sure who, pointed to the back to let me know members of my family were there.

My mom. My sister. My uncle. My sweet grandmother (who is NOT going to be happy with me that I put her picture in the newspaper).

And there was my wife and daughter.

I thought they were still in Hennessey at Kingfisher’s junior high basketball games.

No, they were in on it, too.

Maya waved at me. It hit me.

• • •

All kinds of people congratulated me that night. Handshakes. Pats on the back. Calls. Social media messages. Text messages.

One text came from my dad. He wanted to be there, but right now he has to serve the role as a caretaker. He apologized, but that wasn’t necessary.

He was where he needed to be.

But as I stood on the stage as Senator Jech read a proclamation he was about to present to me, I couldn’t help but think of how proud my stepdad, the late Gill Holland, would have been.

He might have said something like “this is keeping me and your momma out too late,” but I would have known what he was thinking.

My dad was very involved in my life. He was my dad and that never changed, no matter how far away we lived.

But Gill was a father figure, one who loved my sister and I as if we were his own.

When he introduced us to people, he did so as “my son” and “my daughter.”

That’s what we were to him.

He showed me that a child doesn’t have to be yours biologically to still be YOURS.

Maya isn’t MY child.

Her dad is at everything she does. She goes to stay with him on a regular basis. Tyrone is her dad and they have a great relationship.

But Maya still belongs to me, too.

I don’t think I can have a greater love for someone and my desire to do right by her pushes me daily.

There is such a strong link between her, me and Gill.

So when she waved at me from the back, I almost lost it.

Why, at this moment, was THIS on my mind?

I had no idea, but I had to gather my thoughts quickly because the microphone was now mine.

I didn’t know what to say so I made a joke at Terri Peck’s expense. She was so deservedly honored just before me as the “Volunteer of the Year.”

The bond between ol’ Peck and myself goes back a couple of decades and is a completely different column to write.

I tried to crack a joke about her and then waited for her familiar cackle.

There it was.

But what did I say after that?

I’m really not sure. My brain still wasn’t fully functioning enough.

I know I rambled.

And I also know something the night’s keynote speaker Barry Hinson said hit home with me for the second time.

Essentially, we aren’t black. We aren’t white. We’re people.

It grabbed at my heart when he said it and I was still sitting in the audience.

I thought of it again as I stood on that stage.

I don’t know why, but I did.

Then I did lose it.

My composure was gone.

I don’t know how I crawled out of that hole or what I said the rest of the speech.

I just hope I sounded grateful.

I am.

I don’t know who nominated me for the honor.

I don’t know who ultimately said “well, he’s as good as anyone else this year, I guess.”

Whoever those people were, thank you.

Thank you to everyone who congratulated me that night. You didn’t have to take the time to stop and talk after a long night, but you did.

To everyone who texted or posted on social media, thank you.

To everyone who was in on the secret and didn’t tell me, forget you.

To everyone who supports our KHS broadcasts, whether financially or just by watching them, thank you.

To everyone who supports what we do at this newspaper, thank you.

I have the best newspaper job in all of Oklahoma.

It’s a job I love. I get paid to do it.

And then, on top of that, I was presented an unreal honor for simply doing that job.

It doesn’t get any better than that.

Well, I didn’t think it could until Maya whispered the words “good job tonight” in my ear.

Thank you for that.