Like meeting a brother
My brush with fame happened a year ago when my husband and I were visiting our oldest son, who lives close to Cincinnati, Ohio.
Of course, we wanted to take in a Red's baseball game. I was most excited about watching Ken Griffey Jr. play. (It turned out that he only batted one time in the last inning and struck out.)
My thoughts were focused on seeing Griffey, as we bought Griffey paraphernalia to take home as a souvenir.
Little did I know who I was about to meet.
We got settled into our seats right along first-base line, and my eye caught the big screen showing a very familiar face that was getting ready to throw the first pitch to start the game. It was Greg Brady (Barry Williams)!
He was at home base talking with umpires, and I just had to at least get a picture of this individual who felt like my brother because of all the episodes I used to watch of the "Brady Bunch." It was one of my favorite shows.
I got as close as I could without actually climbing over the rail and jumping onto the field, and, just as I took the picture, he turned toward the camera and waved, That in itself made me quite satisfied, and I returned to my seat giving all the fun details to my family, thinking that was that.
As the game progressed, my daughter and I needed some refreshments, and, as we began climbing the steps, there at the top of the steps was Barry Williams - maybe 20 yards away from us. And hardly anyone around him.
I already had my camera in hand (my philosophy is you never know when a picture opportunity will come up) and quickly climbed the steps in hopes of actually talking to this "Brady Bunch" legend.
I turned to my daughter and said, "There's Barry Williams; we have to hurry!"
Of course, she had no idea what I was talking about. I got to the top of the steps and right away shook his hand and told him I felt like he was a brother to me since he practically grew up in my living room (afterward, I thought, How many times has he heard that?)
Then I asked if I could get a picture with him.
He replied, "Don't ask, just do it because there soon will be lots of people surrounding me."
So, I gave the camera to my daughter, who took our picture. Sure enough, right after the photo, people began to surround him. After that, I sort of floated around the stadium; my daughter thought I was just weird.
The Reds lost the game, but I was smiling as we exited the stadium.
- Lisa Criswell