Sometimes the story is just about the story

           “I just listen and keep my mind open and what I’ve found is that people with stories will seek me out.”        
                                                                     Tim Tingle, Texas storyteller

            That’s a quote the kids were supposed to reflect upon in the storytelling unit I introduced while subbing for Ms. Galvin-Wright at Trickum Middle School .

            I love subbing for her kids. I don’t know if it’s the inspirational sayings she posts on the walls or her bright blue and orange décor that keeps them awake or what, but I always leave knowing a little more than I did when I arrived.

            As we talked about Tingle and the stories he spins, someone said, “So his stories are still alive, but is he?”

            “Well,” I said, “I’ll be in Texas next week. Maybe I can ask around.”

            “Where in Texas ?” a young man asked.

            “ Galveston ,” I replied.

            “Oh, wow, Galveston ! That’s where Jack Johnson was from. He was the first African American world heavyweight boxing champ way back in 1908. You’re so lucky, Mrs. Larson, you get to see where Jack Johnson was born.

            I hated to admit that I’d never heard of Jack Johnson, but never had to because another student piped in with an off-the-wall question.

            “Mrs. Larson, you write stories for the newspaper, don’t you?”

            “Why, yes, I do.”

            “Could you write a story about us?”
            “If one comes to me,” I assured her.

            “Oh, like someone’s going to seek you out and give you a story?”

            “Maybe something like that,” I said.

            When my husband and I got to Galveston , I really didn’t think about Tim Tingle, or even writing for that matter. I was on vacation. But as we toured the island on a duck ride, our driver announced that we were cruising down Jack Johnson Blvd.

            Wow, I thought, Jack Johnson really is a big deal here.

            On our last day we strolled through a tourist trap known as The Strand. A guy in full cowboy garb approached us with a “Howdy,” and started to rattle off trivia about Hurricane Ike and other local lore. Then he segued his way into trying to sell us a cruise package.

            I told him we didn’t have time, but had to ask what he knew about Jack Johnson.

            “Jack Johnson!” he said with eyes lit up. “Jack Johnson the big rock star? Not only is he talented, rich and married to a super model, but we even have a street named for him!”

            When I set him straight, he said, “Wow, I never knew that. But, actually, I’m not from around these parts. I’m from Wisconsin and just came down here to run this cruise business. Thank you for letting me know about that.”

            Thank you for the story, I thought to myself, and for the good time I’m going to have the next time I sub for Ms. Galvin-Wright and have her kids explain to me how this story came about.

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