Most know him as “Bear.” Well. At least in ECU Pirate circles that’s how he’s known.
Of course, the “Bear” has a given and a surname, but for this little story the nickname serves best.
If you need more specificity, think, maybe, “honey bear,” not “grizzly.”
But on with the “bear tale.”
Our column’s protagonist is a true Pirate fan, in every sense of the word. So, to find him selling raffle tickets to aid the Pirate Club is not uncommon.
He stopped by the Seventh Street recreation center (now the Bobby Andrews center) and came in to see me one morning when I was a part-time employee there for the Recreation Department.
His mission was for me to purchase some raffle tickets being sold for, you guessed it, some Pirate activity.
I went back out to my truck, got my check book, and purchased tickets for “x” amount of money.
Just as he was leaving, I said, “Bear, where are my tickets?”
“Oh,” he said. “I don’t have them with me. I’ll get’em to you.”
“Alright,” I said. Or something like that. We all forget things, don’t we?
Time went by. A month. Maybe two. No tickets. It was my Wonderful First Wife, the “Chancellor of the Exchequer and Director of Accounting,” who asked me one day, “Did Mac ever get those tickets to you?”
Hmmm. Me thought maybe I’d give him a call. And I did.
“Bear, when are you going to get me those tickets?” They haven’t had the drawing yet, have they?”
He just chuckled.
He said, “Oh, don’t worry about it.”
“They’ve had the drawing?!”
“Oh, yeah. You didn’t win.”
Win? Good heavens. I never even saw my tickets.
He assured me that all proceeds went for a good cause.
I knew that.
But … I never even saw my tickets.
The next time he sees me when he’s selling for a worthy (make that Pirate) cause I’m sure I’ll take part. Again.
Besides, who could say “no” to the Bear?
He’s a good man.