In the late summer of 1989, I had an idea to approach the University of Central Florida’s student newspaper, “The Future,” about writing a weekly column. I wrote the first one and very humbly submitted it in person to the editor, Scott Altman. Without much fanfare, it was accepted, and so it went for the next fifteen months. Ultimately, many positive experiences grew from these efforts. One esteemed instructor made much of my work and was instrumental in me winning a Scripps-Howard Foundation Fellowship for the column.
Thank you, Keith Fowles.
The kind feedback of several friends (including Beth Kiefert, now Beth Darnell) and a few other tips of folks’ hats made the endeavor most worthwhile.
The complete time capsule, featuring the thoughtful, humorous, satirical and/or fictional work of a somewhat atypical Central Florida college student at the turn of the 1990s, appears here. I thought I’d use this space to share the following entry that debuted 36 years ago.
Feb. 13, 1990: The Story of Tiny and Valera
In a small midwestern town, a boy named Tiny grew up tending his widower father’s peach orchard. Despite his name, Tiny was an over-sized boy. No one worked harder than he, and no father was ever more proud. On Tiny’s twenty-third birthday, a late winter freeze came to the Midwest, and Tiny’s old dad passed with the same cold wind that bore away the fruits of the orchard. Tiny took to the road. For years he wandered, ever eastward, toward the ocean shores.
In the chills of a foggy winter morning, Tiny happened on a road-side stand near the sea, wherein stood a wisp of a girl named Valera selling fruit to the passing fishermen. This morning, as the large unkempt Tiny ambled past her, she shrilled out, “Good mornin’ sir. Say, a peach’ll put the sweetness in your soul this mornin’.” Tiny turned toward the first friendly voice, it seemed, he’d ever heard. On seeing the peach in her outstretched hand, he broke down in tears.
The lovely girl was soon at his side. In his bewildered state, Tiny was helpless. He opened up, and as the morning passed the two exchanged stories and became open-hearted friends. Valera explained the loneliness of her life, and Tiny felt a stirring in his giant heart. He took to sleeping outside the village and spending his days with Valera. He was in love.
One morning, a friend of Valera’s father returned from the sea. As Tiny rounded the bluff, he saw the man holding Valera and kissing her sweet cheeks. Tiny was destroyed. He tore through the woods down to the beach and threw himself into the crashing surf. Suddenly, Valera appeared. She sliced through the water and dove town to catch Tiny’s sinking mass. She pulled him to shore and brought him around. “You silly man, you could’ve drowned!” she cried. “Y’ want me to be a lonely wretch forever?” Real tears streamed down her wet face. Panting, Tiny humbly told her of his feelings. “Oh — I love you too, Tiny!” she rejoiced.
Witnessing the exchanging of vows that morning, the fishermen went home with glad hearts. The couple’s story spread, and the village adopted a holiday in celebration of their sincere love. Ever since, on February 14, the townspeople have greeted one another with, “Happy Val and Tiny’s Day!”
