I’ve gotten to meet a few interesting people in my time.
Sat on a plane one day next to Bob Richards, the Vaulting Parson, whose visage graced Wheaties cereal boxes when I was a kid.
He was in 70s at the time and pleased beyond measure that I recognized him.
We had a nice talk about nothing in particular, and I was glad for the interaction.
He was an icon of the 1950s and 1960s and I was glad to know that the real him was as personable and kind as his reputation.
Not long after that, I was in a running program with a lady who happened to be a Texas Ranger. I am ashamed to admit I no longer remember her name, but I do remember one day I ran into her - literally - in the stairwell of the newspaper in Waco.
She was there to body-guard the governor, George Bush, but pleasantly smiled and said hello as I squeezed aside to let them pass.
I nodded to the governor/future president, who said “Hey,” or something similar in return.
While I worked at the Waco paper I also got to meet a Satanist and a man who legitimately thought he was Jesus.
The Satanist called one day and asked if I would like to have some insights into what he described as a thriving alternative religion scene in the Waco area.
He said there would have to be a condition that I never identify him in print as a Satanist because he worked at Baylor University, which would not appreciate the irony in having him as an employee.
“But you’ll be surprised when we meet,” he said.
Sure enough, I was. I had known the guy for some time and he was in an organization that we often covered.
I was slightly concerned that he would try to convert me - with an implied “or else” - but such was not the case. It was an interesting two-hour interview.
It was near that same time that the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms had the shootout and seige at the Branch Davidian compound near Elk.
Shortly after the first gunfight, I got a call from a man who said he had been reading that David Koresh was referring to himself as the Messiah.
“Yes, he is claiming that, but I don’t think anyone really believes he is,” I said.
“Of course he isn’t. I am.” A couple of hours later I was face-to-face with a man whom I believe genuinely thought he was Jesus.
It was another two-hour conversation as he explained himself, his mission on Earth in 1993 and how I could know for sure he was Jesus.
When he got up to go, he shook my hand, lowered his eyebrows and said: “We’ll meet again. But don’t worry. I’ll remember you.”
That was disconcerting, but not as much as meeting the Grand Dragon of the Texas Ku Klux Klan or the phone call I got from the guy in jail who said the facts were all wrong about the murder charge against him.
He said it was true that he had killed the victim and it was true that it was because the victim had shoplifted a can of SPAM from his convenience store.
The facts that were wrong? “I didn’t mean to shoot him. The door blew open, hit my hand and made me pull the trigger.”