Ramble On

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Boys of Summer 2 (Valley League Story)

Continuing today with the recent letter to the editor about a fan’s experience watching and being part of the Luray Wranglers this summer.

Mary and I didn’t manage to get to any of the Valley League games this year, but as we’d roll into Luray on Friday nights during the summer we often passed the crowded ball park on the edge of town. A few years ago I lived in Melbourne, Florida, and would drive down four or five times a year for the Dodgers minor league games in Vero Beach, so I found this father’s story compelling.

"'One Summer in Luray'
A letter to the Editor, Page News and Courier, Thursday, October 30, 2008 edition
By Bill Reid Jr., Moberly, MO

… I chatted briefly with the first gentleman I met as I entered the ball park. He asked if I was with the opposing team. I told him my son pitched for the Wranglers. I sensed instantly that we had something in common.

He was leaving town that night for eight to 10 days. He immediately offered his two reserved seats behind home plate to my wife and me while he was gone. The people we sat near and the friendships developed while attending the games, the quaint small town restaurants, and the people that worked them. The older gentleman that we talked to on his way to church that was familiar with where we live in rural Missouri and has passed through our area; the lady who knew a man my wife had worked with in Missouri that we met at her brother’s home at the edge of town while admiring their flower garden. All examples of the priceless experiences that money cannot buy and the big city cannot offer, but what Luray is all about during “one summer in Luray.”

The volunteer workers that befriended us at the games, the staff and ownership of the Wranglers, and the wonderful family that took Owen, a perfect stranger, into their home for the summer and treated him like he had always been part of their family, “one summer in Luray.”

I could offer many other examples of the random acts of kindness shown to us by the people of Luray, but that wouldn’t be fair. It became apparent to us that it wasn’t random at all, but an everyday occurrence, “one summer in Luray.”"

Tomorrow will conclude the letter.

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