January 31, 2020
This was going to be a Facebook-free trip. I’m sure more than a few folks are tired of my “hey, look where I’m fortunate enough to travel to this week” posts. I have no doubt that it gets old—but this trip was…
…miraculous.
I arrived at the airport in Dallas on Monday at 11:30 am for my flight to Tampa whereby I would deliver a presentation to the fourth—and final, group of leaders of our Sales organization. American Airlines changed our departure gate and terminal four times—a new record. I had steam blowing from my ears.
Sure, I can hear all of you thinking, “oh you poor thing, Tommy—no one should have to endure such hardship on their way to Florida in January.”
I scrambled to get to the tram for the short ride from Terminal C to Terminal A. The tram pulled up and the door opened directly in front of me. Rather than rushing onto the tram I motioned to the woman in a wheelchair beside me and her attendant to go ahead of me. Meanwhile, to ensure I didn’t miss the train, I then pushed them out out of my way as I bolted for the next open door.
OK, That previous sentence was only inserted for dramatic affect. It really didn’t go down that way.
Let me try again.
Meanwhile, I walked slowly to the next open door—just a few feet away—and climbed aboard. As the tram started moving, I noticed an elderly gentleman sitting in a wheelchair just a few feet away. He looked very familiar. My suspicions prompted me to look at his hands. They were the big, meaty hands I’d seen on video many times. Then I focused on the ring finger of his left hand—I was not surprised to see a well-worn championship ring. There was no further doubt about his identity.
I leaned towards him and sheepishly said, “are you Jerry?” He looked me in the eye and nodded affirmatively. Then he put a finger over his lips to keep it quiet—I’m sure he is often bothered by his many fans—especially the type that walk around all day with chunks of yellow rubber cheese on their heads. I just couldn’t resist telling him “you’re not going to believe this, but I’m on my way to Tampa to deliver a presentation and your experiences with Vince Lombardi are an integral part of the presentation.”
Then I blew it.
I said: “And I’m a Vikings fan.”
He seemed to forgive me as he offered a couple of comments about the year the Vikes and Packers had, citing that it was good that both made the playoffs—and that he has many friends who once played for the Vikings. Wanting to keep it brief, I quietly said “it was nice to meet you.” He gave me a pleasant smile and I backed away.
When the tram arrived at the terminal, I stepped aside from the door to allow his son to guide him to their flight. I quietly said, “congratulations on your induction into the Hall of Fame.” Clearly, he appreciated the comment and thanked me before proceeding through the airport.
I assumed that was the end of the story.
It wasn’t.
As I stepped off the tram, two guys who had been standing nearby asked who I was visiting with. I told them he was legendary former Green Bay Packer, Jerry Kramer. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame last August.
They got a kick out of learning his identity, especially the guy who is a fan of the Chicago Bears.
As I walked to through the airport, I was in a bit of shock. I’ve been working on this presentation since last July. I’ve had the relevant video featuring Kramer on my computer for the past six or seven years. I’ve memorized it. I’ve delivered this version of the presentation in Dallas, Lake Geneva, Raleigh and San Diego. Final stop—Tampa. Kramer’s observations about life with Vince Lombardi have been a focal point of my presentation. What were the odds of me crossing paths with Jerry Kramer today?
Or, in the vernacular of my inner-sailor who typically dominates my unrelenting self-talk: “How the #%@$ did that just happen? How could he and I be at the exact same place at exactly the same time? You have got to be kidding me.”
I’ve crossed paths with celebrities/famous athletes before. Chris Farley, Ken Burns, Pierre Turgeon. Joe Sakic. Mike Singletary. Richard Dent. Dan Hampton. Deion Sanders. Former Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, Cheryl Tiegs—that’s a heck of a story. I even met another Green Bay Packer, Dave Robinson, also a Hall of Famer. But the probability of me crossing paths with Jerry Kramer the day before a presentation which culminates with a video about him?
Powerball odds. Maybe greater. Astronomical.
I arrived at the gate for the flight to Tampa & sat down in the waiting area. Then, here comes Jerry and his son. Clearly, they are on the same flight. Perhaps he’s going to the Super Bowl in Miami, via Tampa. Oddly, both of us would ultimately make stops in both Tampa and Miami.
His, planned. Mine, not. More on that later.
They chose a seat nearby me but tucked away from most of the crowd. I respectfully kept my distance.
As with all flights, they allow those who need extra time to board first. Jerry certainly fits that description. At age 84, the wear and tear of college and professional football—and life in general, has taken a toll on his mobility, especially when the task is laboring around a large airport. When my group was called I walked down the aisle, thinking I’d look for him and give him a nod of the head if we made eye contact. Well, we not only made eye contact, he appeared to be looking for me. I saw him sitting a few feet ahead in the middle seat of row 10. We made eye contact and he gestured for me to stop and visit. Fortunately, the folks who would be sitting in the aisle and middle seats of Row 9 hadn’t boarded yet, so I slipped into the row & leaned over the back of the middle seat.
He enthusiastically said, “I want to hear more about the presentation you mentioned.”
I responded with:
“I’ve been meeting with the leadership of our sales organization in recent weeks. The focus of the presentation is–in part, about the challenges and benefits that cultural changes can have on an organization. I highlight your comment about the Packers being 1-10-1 the year before Vince Lombardi’s arrival despite all the talent on the roster. He arrived—changed the culture, and the Packers achieved great success throughout the 60’s. My lengthy presentation culminates with your—and Bart Starr’s, relationship with Vince Lombardi. I show segments of the Lombardi documentary HBO produced a few years ago. My presentation ends with your citation of how you thought you were “never going to be able to play for this guy…then one day he approached you in the locker room put his hand in the back of your head, ruffled your hair a bit and said, “son—one day you are going to the best guard in football…and with that one comment he allowed you to think about being a great football player….and from that moment on, you gave him everything you and it made a profound impact on your life.”
That was a mouthful, but Kramer squeezed my arm and said, “Exactly!”
He obviously knew I had done my homework and wasn’t bullshitting him. I was quoting him almost verbatim from the HBO documentary. He kept his hand on my arm—like he wasn’t going to let me go away. He proceeded to tell me about a leadership/motivational seminar he attended years ago in Seattle—a logical destination since he had plenty of public speaking experience. He then told me a story about chopping and stacking wood with his less-than-enthusiastic son & how he used a Lombardi technique about “acceptance and belief” to inspire him to excel at their labor intensive task—which is exactly what his son did that day—he became the greatest wood-stacking young boy in entire state of Wisconsin.
It occurred to me that he’d gone from “shooshing” me to keep his identity quiet to holding court with me in Row 10 of the plane. The two people sitting beside him were enjoying the exchange—the guy in the aisle seat was texting his buddy that he was “sitting beside Jerry Kramer!” The woman sitting in the window seat insisted that we needed our picture taken together. I’d have never asked for that, or an autograph, but I’m glad she made the suggestion, and Jerry was happy to oblige. Now, I actually have proof that this encounter happened.
By this time, I had to vacate Row 9 and head to my window seat further back on the plane. I probably haven’t smiled like that since my moment with Cheryl Tiegs. Without that darn picture, how would anyone believe this????”
Once again, I figured it was over.
Once again, it wasn’t.
Before our flight departed Dallas, I texted my partner in this presentation with the following message:
“You are going to shit when you see who gets off of the plane I’m on.”
Perhaps my inner-sailor composed that text.
My friend, mentor and coworker Mike, would be arriving in Tampa earlier than me and we’d share a car to the hotel. I advised him to wait by my arrival gate for & watch for the gentleman departing the plane in a wheelchair. Mike grew up in Milwaukee. Kramer played for Green Bay. Typical with sports-minded youngsters, Mike developed a special admiration for Kramer—one of the stars on Mike’s favorite childhood sports team. Mike was an offensive lineman in high school football—just like Kramer. At very least, I wanted to ensure Mike saw Jerry departing the plane.
I got off the plane and Mike confirmed that he saw him.
Goose bumps.
We waited for my bags – the Kramers were on the opposite side of the carousel and retrieved their luggage moments before me. I grabbed mine, then told Mike I needed to make a pit stop. As we broke free of the crowd, I saw the men’s room. More importantly, I saw Jerry’s son step into the rest room just ahead of us while Jerry sat outside.
Considering that Mr. Kramer and I now go way back, I felt empowered to intrude on his privacy yet again.
“Hi Jerry, I’d like to introduce you to someone who is helping me with the presentation about you. Jerry, meet Mike Tracy.”
Mike proceed to eloquently share some memories with Jerry about growing up in Wisconsin while Kramer was playing for the Packers. Mike cited some of the same things I’d previously mentioned about our presentation. (Mike and I have spent a lot of time on this presentation!) I figured I’d step away to the men’s room to give them some one-on-one time. When I returned, Jerry seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his discussion with Mike—in no hurry to move along to his private life.
Eventually, we brought things to a close, thanking Jerry’s son Jordan for sharing some of his private time with his Dad with us. Jordan and Jerry could not have been more gracious.
Mike and I made our way to the rental car. Perhaps 15 or 20 times, I said “How the heck did that just happen?” We checked into the hotel, walked across the street for dinner and a beer & agreed to not tell anyone attending the conference the following day until the end of our presentation.
Tuesday couldn’t have gone better. We have a great, admirable group of leaders who manage our Sales organization—they contributed invaluable insight to the discussion throughout the afternoon. Finally, I showed the Lombardi video, concluding as always with Jerry Kramer’s comments. Normally, it’s over. But I added a few more slides to the PowerPoint deck.
First slide: “Have you ever met a celebrity?”
We had some interesting offerings, most notably, Muhammad Ali and President Bush (Jr).
Next Slide: Have you ever built a presentation for work which prominently featured a celebrity?
Crickets.
Next slide: Have you ever built a presentation for work which prominently featured a celebrity then miraculously crossed paths with that person in the airport before your flight to Tampa to deliver your presentation for the final time?”
I heard a “NO WAY” from the audience and a couple folks asking “who was it?” After a few suspenseful seconds, I advanced to a slide with the picture of me and Jerry and a title of:
“Jerry Kramer, January 27, 2020.”
At that moment, I think I heard a few inner-sailor comments from the audience. It was quite a moment, quite a trip, quite a presentation. A good friend appropriately described the encounter as some sort of divine intervention. Others had tears in their eyes as we told the entire story.
Now, it truly was over. But the memories will never end.
The moral of this story is to welcome gate changes at the airport. Don’t get grumpy. Also, be courteous to elderly women in wheelchairs. Without both, I’d never have crossed paths with Jerry Kramer.
Naturally, I shared this story with family members. My stepdaughter, Jakkie, made a poignant observation. Prefaced with a story about a mentor who had inspired Jakkie and how that mentor learned of Jakkie’s admiration for her. The mentor was honored to have made an impact. Jakkie suggested “I bet you made Jerry’s day and who can say they made the day of a celebrity.”
This hadn’t crossed my mind. Then I thought, Jerry is a story teller. He as authored several books. Perhaps Jerry will meet a few of his old teammates in Miami, telling them, “you’re not going to believe this, but I met a couple of guys who are still architecting business presentations about our lives with Lombardi in Green Bay. The world hasn’t forgotten us.”
A bit too presumptuous? Of course. But maybe…just maybe.
On Wednesday morning, I had more airport fun. I arrived at the airport before 7:00 am—scheduled for a two-and-a-half hour flight back to Dallas—a flight filled with far more adventure than I’d expected.
We sat on the plane on the tarmac for 75 minutes waiting for maintenance. They repeatedly told us, “this won’t take long.” Eventually, they took us off the plane while repairs continued.
After numerous delays, a cancellation, then revocation of the cancellation, we departed at 2:00 pm. We climbed into the Tampa sky amid the most turbulence I’ve experienced in recent memory. Like, vomit-inducing, “elevate you out of your chair” turbulence.
My inner-sailor was quite talkative.
After 15 minutes of this, the turbulence lessened but I noticed that we were banking hard to the left. I’ve traveled and studied maps enough to know that a flight from Tampa to Dallas doesn’t require a 90-degree left turn over the Gulf of Mexico.
I knew something was wrong.
Moments later the pilot announced that “the problems which led to the repairs causing our delay were not fixed properly. We are still observing the same problems with the plane. Proceeding over the Gulf of Mexico is too risky. We are turning back to land in Miami.”
Miami?
We departed from Tampa.
Yes, Miami.
Our plane has problems precluding transport over the Gulf but we are going to saunter on down to South Beach? How about just landing this freaking plane at the nearest airport—Tampa???
Oh eventually, we did land.
Like a rock.
Ouch. Our descent into Miami was a bit bumpy and suspenseful, knowing that we were on a damaged airplane. Thankfully, we were all safe. It was just a minor—yet somewhat scary, inconvenience. I was quickly booked onto another flight from Miami to Dallas and arrived home more than 14 hours after arriving at the airport in Tampa.
Poor Tom, huh?
I began my trip with a lot of airport frustration. That turned out to be a blessing as Mike and I were able to meet Jerry. I ended my trip with a lot of airport frustrations. That turned out to be a blessing as I was able to jot down a few thoughts about the trip…which, of course, have to be posted on Facebook for the two or three people who aren’t completely sick of my travel posts.
In closing, next time I travel, I will maintain complete silence on Facebook. No pics of clouds. No pics of sporting events. No pics of food.
Nothing whatsoever…
…unless I sit next to Wayne Gretzky on the flight.
The end.
