CHAPTER 19: Pay it Forward

The older you get, the more you realize that nothing should be taken for granted. One’s own mortality creeps in and reminds you that tomorrow isn’t promised. While I’m healthy (knock on wood), celebrating my 30th birthday for the second time was a bit eye-opening. I find that I now see the world through a slightly different lens, one that influences me to take a deep breath, soak it in and appreciate things more.

In June, I became a grandfather for the first time. My son Tyler and his beautiful bride Christina gave birth to an adorable little girl named Elise. I fell in love all over again and the depth of that love shifted my thoughts down a path that previously, I never visited. How old will I be when Elise graduates from high school? What about college? And I sure do hope that I’m around to see her get married and that I have a few marbles still floating around in my head when it happens. We’ll see.

Not long after Elise’s birth I ventured out to Boulder, Colorado to visit my daughter Tori. We spent 4 days together hiking, sight-seeing and talking about so many things. I don’t know of anyone who has a level of self-awareness like Tori. But after spending that time with her, just the two of us for 95% of the trip, it just connected us in a way that I had only dreamed and hoped for. When she dropped me off at the airport and we said our goodbyes, I missed her immediately. I know I’ll be back, God willing. And those are the things that enter your mind when you turn Six. Oh.

After I got through security and to my gate, I had to walk away from everyone for a few moments. I cried. I cried because I felt so much love and joy for that little girl, this now grown woman, that I helped to create, and I almost felt guilty. How could I be so blessed to call her my daughter?

By now you’re probably wondering what all of this means – what does this have to do with The History of RSR? Well, I mentioned this in a previous chapter that I’m at a point in my life where I hope to affect people in a positive way. I want them to remember me not by what I said or did. Those things can be fleeting. I want to be remembered by how I made someone feel. That lives in perpetuity. I’ve also been clear from the start, the purpose of sharing this history, this journey. If this story helps one other person even remotely pursue a dream and catch it, this time has been well-spent.

My enhanced awareness of my own mortality, influenced heavily by my children and now, grandchild, has certainly expanded the time I spend thinking about legacy. And those thoughts have influenced past projects like the ThumbsUp247.com experiment. Similar thoughts crept their way into another RSR project from years ago called, “Kidz Korner”.

While a member of the now defunct Brick Bodies in Perry Hall, I met one of the trainers there who was a big Ravens fan. He was a discerning student of the game and had little patience for redundant errors and physical inadequacies. His name was Rob Gerber.

One day, probably while Monday morning quarterbacking following a Sunday game, Rob told me of a young fan who was 13 and home schooled. He said that this kid understood football well and he was an excellent communicator who spoke on a level beyond his years. He asked if there might be room for someone like him at RSR. I said that I’d give it some thought.

While considering the opportunity, I thought back to a few other times when I was given a chance to interact with kids based in part on what I do at RSR. Each of those times was rewarding but this was a little different. My time was spoken for and then some. Could I take a young writer under my wing and do it the right way given my regular and at times overwhelming commitments?

Plus I had to consider the kid. How would site visitors respond to the young writer? Would they cut him slack because he was young (assuming they read his bio) or would they be overly critical and subsequently undermine his ambition to be a journalist – if that was in his career sights. But there was something in me that really wanted to help groom this enthusiastic young fan.

The next time I saw Rob, I asked him to connect me with the aspiring writer. Rob introduced me to Joe Wedra.

Because Joe was so young, I thought to call HIS column, The Kidz Korner. That way, critical thinkers might go a bit easier on him. And it also might inspire other young fans to come forward. Who knows when or where you might discover a young prodigy, right?

When I first contacted Joe to discuss the implementation of Kidz Korner, I thought it would be best if I met with him and his parents at the same time. It was important for them to meet me and understand the journey Joe and I were about to embark upon together. And so we met at MaGerk’s Pub in Bel Air, nearby where the Wedra’s lived. The mentoring was under way.

I reached out to Joe recently, many years after this first meeting, to tell the Kidz Korner story from his perspective, through his eyes. His enthusiasm to do so was quite rewarding and his account, both revealing and heartfelt. I wasn’t aware of all Joe is about to share. As you will see, Kidz Korner was certainly a worthy endeavor. Here’s Joe’s story…

To say Russell Street Report has a special meaning in my life would be an understatement.

A very big understatement.

I hope that there are some of you who see the name of the author of this column and say “hey, I remember that guy”. Actually, you’ll probably say you remember “that kid”. Because chances are, the last time you read something I wrote, I was just that — a kid.

I was a kid with a dream. And that dream was turned into a reality thanks to Tony Lombardi.

When I was 13 years old, I sat down for lunch with Tony at MaGerk’s Pub in Bel Air. We had a mutual friend named Rob who noticed that I loved two things: writing and the Ravens. Rob connected us, and Tony, who had never met me before, decided to drive to Bel Air, sit in a corner booth at MaGerk’s with me and my parents and explain his vision for what he was doing at the website.

To be clear, my journalism journey started over a simple hamburger with a guy I had never met before. (Side note: I remember this meal vividly — the burger was way too pink for me at the time, but I wasn’t going to let Tony think I was afraid of a burger. I ate that entire thing. It was brutal for middle school Joe, but you’ll be glad to know I now — at 25 years old — order my steaks medium rare. That’s called maturity.)

From there, Tony allowed me to write a regular column for the website titled “Kidz Korner”. I now realize that he probably dubbed it that way, more as a disclaimer for how bad the writing was from a kid who knew nothing about journalistic structure, AP style or really how to place a comma.

Regardless, Tony published the stories I e-mailed him once a week.

And he published them without fail.

No, they were not good. He may argue, but I will stand firm in that. The articles still exist, and I can confirm that at 13, I was not winning many awards.

But through it all, Tony published those stories. Along the way, he offered advice on how to improve — both in style and fleshing out my ideas into comprehensible sentences that other people might want to read.

I wrote about Joe Flacco.

I wrote about the decisions I’d make to win games.

Over time, I even got to interview players and attend events with the RSR credentials to my name.

I had “my place” at the Kidz Korner.

Those were cool moments, but I had no idea how important they would one day become.

I will spare you the in-depth details of my journey in writing and journalism, but I’ll briefly outline the path I was able to take, one that all started because of a burger in MaGerk’s and a love for Ravens football.

At 16, I got my first job — a sports writer for a newspaper in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Having just moved to South Carolina, I walked into the offices of the Myrtle Beach Herald and placed a stack of articles that I had written for Russell Street Report on the editor’s desk and essentially asked him if I was crazy to even be asking for a part-time job covering local sports.

The next week, I was at a local high school football game writing a game story that would later be printed for thousands to read over my hometown.

At 17, I was accepted into the University of North Carolina’s School of Media and Journalism to study public relations and writing.

At 20, I graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill (Yes, I was 20. I was homeschooled. And proud of it!) with my degree and transitioned that into a full-time job with the school’s wrestling team, focusing largely on communications efforts.

Since then, I have made a couple of really cool stops along the way (including one at the U.S. Olympic Training Center working for Team USA).

Currently, I am 25 years old and run my own media and marketing company and — get this — I work for the same newspaper that first hired me at 16 in my spare time, running our local high school sports coverage in Horry County, SC.

I bring this mini journey to your attention not to boast about the things I have done or the places I have seen.

I write all of this to point out that none of it would have happened had it not been for Tony Lombardi, a hamburger, a stack of articles and the Russell Street Report community.

I sometimes look at the degree that hangs on the wall of my home office and think of Russell Street Report. And in all honesty, when Tony called me regarding this project and wanted to talk about it, I was disappointed in myself that I didn’t reach out to him sooner to thank him for all he did for me.

I did that on the phone about a week ago, but let me do that publicly now.

Tony, you and this website allowed me to find my passion. You saw through the pitiful Joe Flacco hot takes and you allowed me to become a writer.

You helped me get the coolest “first job” a kid could ever ask for.

You helped me become a Tar Heel, go to Chapel Hill, make my very best friends and build a trajectory for my current life that would not have happened had it not been for RSR.

This entry/contribution to this overall project is not my most well-written — and I’m keeping it that way. Because frankly, I’m letting these words spill out onto the page so folks can see my true appreciation for everything that writing for RSR has done for me.

I hope to not be a stranger here, and I’m thinking that Tony’s phone call is probably going to be the spark I needed to get back involved in being around the RSR platforms a bit more. Who knows — maybe I’ll get inspired to write a column or two when time allows.

What I do know is that I’m thankful.

That hamburger was a really important one.

And this website — better yet, this community — at Russell Street Report is mighty important, too.

Go Ravens.

***

I want to dedicate this entry and telling of this story to my grandfather, Doug.

12 years ago, every time I would write a column for Russell Street Report, I remember laying on the floor of my bedroom and talking about story ideas and angles while we discussed all things Ravens. I was living in Maryland at the time, but 8 hours of distance did not stop him from supporting me in this journey.

Now, I am 25 years old and I live 5 minutes away from my grandfather. This Sunday, I will be at his house watching the Ravens game, as we now do together most Sundays.

As a firm believer in God, that is what I call a blessing.

Some things really do come full circle.

Thank you to TL and the rest of the RSR crew for being such a blessing in my journey.

Joe Wedra

I’m proud of Joe and his accomplishments. I know his future is extremely bright and to learn that I had even a small role in that swells my chest with pride — for HIM. This result is exactly what I hoped for when the Kidz Korner was introduced. Joe Wedra, he’s no kid anymore. He’s quite a journalist.

Pay it forward my friend.

(In Chapter 20, we’ll share a few stories from more members of our RSR family.)

[Click HERE for Chapters 1 thru 18]

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