Inspiration #2

Shortly after I watched the movie, Shane, my next inspiration occurred just a few days afterward. I sometimes wonder if it was key that these events happened close together allowing my mind to interweave the two experiences. Or possibly my mind would have created the same story even if they occurred years apart. But as with many things in life, serendipity reigns supreme.

Anyway, I get home from Atlantic City in April of 2006 and I see that a writers conference is being held in Hartford, CT, not far from my home. I decide to splurge on the modest fee and check it out. Although the keynote address was delivered by a famous pop novelist, the conference seemed to be loaded with reporters and journalists. It turns out the main sponsor is a newspaper, The Hartford Courant. A bit disappointing.

I try to make the best of it and I attend several of the sessions; "Reports from The Green Zone," "The New Journalism;" "Internet and the News." They were all a bit dull and not what I was looking for, so I decided to head home. Then I passed a sparsely attended lecture on investigative journalism. I don't really know why, but I went in and sat down. This old, round guy got up and blah blahed about doing your homework and writing good notes and I started to doze off. Then out of nowhere he started to tell a story of one successful journalist investigation. I, of course, like stories, so I opened one eye.

He says, and I don't know if any of this is true, that there was a great runner, a track athlete, in the early 1960s who was breaking all the records for intermediate distance running and he was only in his teens. He was big news in the track world, the next Roger Bannister. After one special race where he beat all the best known milers in the world he suddenly disappeared. This caught my attention immediately. It seems that he left a note to his young wife saying something to the effect of "I can't do this. Good bye." The man just left everything behind. Now I was on the edge of my seat. Why did this guy leave at the height of his powers with the world of track begging for his attention? Was he rebelling? Did he have an alternate view of how to live your life? What could it be? I was dying to find out

The lecturer went on. Twenty years later, a young investigative journalist decided he was going to track this guy down. Yeah! He went back and talked to all the players, his wife, his friends, his coach, everyone. Hurry up, damn it. What happened? What happened? He checked airline records, financial records etc. etc. The reporter tracked him down to some far off island. The guy was living like a beach bum selling beaded necklaces to the tourists as they sunbathed. Now this was a bit of a let down. The reporter took him out for a few meals and tried to get answers to why he left. But a coherent conversation was not to be had. It turns out the guy was suffering from some sort of severe mental illness. Now that was more of a letdown. But it got my brain synapses firing. What if the guy was found and he had other, more interesting reasons for dropping out of society? I was at the edge of my seat as the story unfolded, why wouldn't my readers be pulled in as well.

Obviously I can't tell you exactly how this ex-runner became Willie Jamison, it'll ruin the fun when you decide to pick up Poker Slam (or listen to it on iTunes). For those of you who have already read it, you know what I'm talkin' about.