YOU'RE TO CALL THE SECRET SERVICE

In the Fall of 1980, I was the public address announcer for the M. Vernon Rams. A job I held for another 17 seasons in football, 10 in basketball and 5 or 6 in baseball.

The note was sent from the school library where I went to return the call. I told them my name and heard one guy yell to the other, telling him I was on the line. His response, "who the hell is that?"

"I'm the football announcer," I replied before he could ask. He relayed my information.

"Oh, yeah, I need to talk to him."

You see it was the waning days before the election which would inaugurate Ronald Reagan as the 40th President. Roselyn Carter was in town for a fund raiser and would be introduced by me at halftime of the football game. I was given a brief script to read and to pronounce her name correctly. Roselyn, not Rosalyn, I believe. Although I varied from the written script, I did pronounce her name as I was told.

Although I wouldn't vote for her husband, I thought him to be a kind man, a Christian who taught Sunday School in Plains, GA. A man who was in a little over his head as President of the biggest super power in the world. And a man who couldn't pronounce nuclear. Not like George W. who calls it nucular, but nukeyur. My six year old son at the time would crack up when he heard him pronounce it. Yet I was the one getting lectured on elocution.

Oh well, it was the only time I ever got to introduce a first lady. And I hope the only time the Secret Service needs to talk to me.