Ronda Rich

Syndicated Columnist

It happens frequently. A young person will ask me to sign a book I’ve written then look at it in awe for a few seconds before saying, “Wow. You know calligraphy!”

No. Although I did once do it rather well so I addressed wedding invitations for friends. Perhaps I’ll take it back up again.

But what I do is plain, old, simple cursive writing. I enjoy the extravagance of the swirls I add to my Rs, Ms, Fs and Ss. I admit. It looks pretty.

Often, when someone comments on my signature at a book signing, I reply, “I learned that from Richard Petty.”

Richard Petty, besides being one of the greatest stock car drivers ever birthed — one of the first inductees into the NASCAR Hall of Fame — has a signature unlike any writing I’ve ever seen. With great care, he signs his name beautifully, with a lot of swirls. Once, when I was walking with him, someone stopped him for his autograph. Let me note here: Richard Petty always carries a couple of Sharpies with him. He is one of the world’s great celebrities. He had the talent to win 200 races, but he has the humbleness to truly be the sport’s King.

“King Richard!” fans call out.

Beneath those dark sunglasses he wears constantly, there is an undoubtable twinkle in his eyes.

A wide smile of bright white teeth flash brilliantly. On that particular day that I was walking with him — at a fast pace — I counted the seconds he took to sign, “Richard Petty.” Eleven seconds. Most drivers or celebrities scrawl it out to where it can’t be read.

I was young, then. Still learning.

“Why,” I asked as we walked off, “do you sign your name so elaborately? It takes so much time.”

He put a hand on my shoulder, stopped and turned to look at me.

“Let me tell you something, young lady, if a person cares enough to ask for my signature, then I’m gonna give ‘em one to remember.

Some might treasure it.”

When the time came for me to autograph books, his words resounded in my ears. I had always had good penmanship but, thanks to Richard Petty, I practiced my signature and kicked it up a bit.

“That’s beautiful!” I often hear.

“Thank Richard Petty if you ever see him.” They don’t understand but I do.

Several months ago, a young man, in his early-to-mid 30s, stood up in church one Wednesday night. “I have a thank you note to read,” he announced. He looked at the note for a moment then said shyly, “Y’all be patient with me.

It’s been a long time since I read cursive writing.”

Oh, how that pained my heart.

We have an entire generation who knows only how to print. Cursive is foreign to them.

I and my sisters, they most especially, have beautiful penmanship.

It looks almost like a work of art whether it’s on a check, a gift card, or a note. Gorgeous, clear and completely readable. I’ll admit that while mine is good, it falls short after years of being a reporter and scribbling notes quickly during an interview. I have a friend (still a reporter) who knows shorthand so her interview notes will be a scramble of cursive — which, by the way, is faster than printing — and shorthand symbols.

After depriving a generation and a half from the teaching of cursive, school officials across the nation have decided it’s time (past time) to bring back cursive. Half of the states have mandated it by law. If not, you couldn’t sign your name to vote and you couldn’t read historical documents left behind, letters swirled together.

Among the first states to reinstate cursive teaching, most were Southern.

I am not surprised. Southerners know what it takes to make the best looking thank you note possible.

Ronda Rich is the best-selling author of “St. Simons Island: A Stella Bankwell Mystery.” Visit www. rondarich.com to sign up for her free newsletter.