I’m SQuire Rushnell. I was a boy with a dream.
When I was in sixth grade I got to visit a radio station, and from that day on, I knew that’s where I wanted to be…I was talking into a sawed-off broom handle…forcing my voice low…like David Brinkley’s. That drove my older brother crazy. That, and imitating my favorite disc jockey, Dean Harris, who I’d listen to early every morning on a far-away radio station. I’d come into the kitchen, look at my brother, and like Dean Harris, say, “Get up and march around the breakfast table.” Whiz… a cereal box went sailing past my head. About three years later I somehow landed a job interview at the only radio/TV station within miles of my little country town in northern NY. My only means of transportation was hitchhiking, which, on a lonely country road, was pretty safe. Only a few hay bailers went by. I was starting to worry I might be late for my interview when a little green Volkswagen swerved to the side of the road, the door burst open, and a balding man beckoned me in. I told him not only where I was going but the purpose of my mission as well. When I came up for air, he said:
“You tell that fellow you’re seeing, I said hello.”
He then reached out a hand and said, “By the way, my name’s Dean Harris.” I gulped! Wow. Dean-get-up-and-march-around-the breakfast-table-Harris! What are the chances that a boy with a dream, hitchhiking on a country road, would get picked up and taken to his first job interview in his chosen career, by his hero? With God, there are no odds. Oh yes…I got the job.
But here’s what I’ve learned… when you take an archeological dig into your own past…you’ll find that you too have had signposts of encouragement on your way to your destiny. Little godwinks reassuring you, “Hey kid, hang in there. You’re on the right track." I’m SQuire Rushnell…good wishes and godwinks.