Ronda Rich

Syndicated Columnist

Fifteen years ago, I wrote a column that I came to regret as soon as it was published.

Whenever I hear someone say proudly that he has no regrets in life, a string of regrets run through my heart and quickly humbles me (‘umbles as we say in the mountains).

What I wrote, hurt at least a couple of people and angered others. “Pride goeth before destruction,” saith the good book so all I need to do is think of that column and all pride slithers out of my body.

It is never my intent to hurt someone with my words. I view this column as an opportunity to uplift a fallen and saddened world.

It’s a privilege I take seriously. For most 21 years, I have succeeded.

But that column, meant to be funny, fell short.

I wrote it after a couple of months in which I had met movie star Tom Cruise, country music superstar Kenny Chesney and race car driver Jeff Gordon.

My guess is that the three would average 5-foot-7 or less. I probably outweigh Chesney by 15 pounds.

I’m 5-2. With high heels on, I can look Tom Cruise in the eye.

Jeff Gordon? I had been visiting friends at a NASCAR race and was in a private area of the track.

Gordon walked up and joined the conversation. When he walked off, I turned to a friend and said, “I think I could out arm wrestle him.” He laughed. “As mean as you are, you probably could. We just got to get you mad first.”

This is a summary. I elaborated more but it began with wonderment of how small our heroes can be when we see them on television. Again, it was never meant to be unkind or a put down. However, I accept the responsibility and apologize to anyone I offended that I didn’t know I offended.

One man, however, minced no words when he wrote and took me down a couple of notches. My heart fell. I read it again then again. I mulled over it for a bit. In the letter, the man told me he was a NASCAR fan. He might even have been a fan of Gordon’s but I don’t recollect.

Finally, I did something that I should do more often. I ‘umbled myself, took full responsibility and apologized. I even offered to send him a gift of my NASCAR memoir, “My Life In The Pits” if he were interested.

His next email was kind. He forgave me and happily accepted the gift I offered. To this day, Bobby Sterling will tell you that my book is his favorite that he ever read.

And, he will hurry on to tell you that not only does he know me, I’m his friend.

Proudly, I can call him my precious friend. When Bobby’s wife was dying, I checked on him regularly and prayed for him.

Whenever I have a book signing or speaking engagement within a hundred miles, he will be the first there “so I can hug your neck.”

The other day, Tink walked into the kitchen with a package. “Do you know Bobby Sterling?”

“I have friend by that name.”

Tink smiled. “Yes, you do. He sent you a gift.” Bobby had been in contact with Tink.

The gift was marvelous. It was a custom-made embosser that engraves “From the library of Ronda Rich.” It included round, gold stamps to use. It is one of the most thoughtful gifts I have ever received.

Tink wrote Bobby to thank him. His reply was “Years ago, I got mad over a column she wrote. She sent me a copy of ‘My Life In The Pits.’

I’m just paying her back.”

My eyes teared when Tink told me. “I’ve regretted that column all these years.”

But now, it occurs to me that it isn’t a regret. My stupidity brought me a wonderful friend.

Ronda Rich is the best-selling author of the Stella Bankwell series.

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