Dear Mister Rogers

Dear Mister Rogers,

My memory isn’t the best, but one moment I’ll never forget is meeting you.

It was September 4, 2001. I’d arrived on Nantucket just a few hours prior. I remember going for a run, then swimming in the bay at sunset. By the time you walked over from The Crooked House, there wasn’t a trace of sunlight to be found; the sun had fallen below the waves. The stars had yet to come out. It was completely and perfectly dark.

I was standing on the back porch, beer in hand, when I heard your unmistakable voice inquire, “Has the birthday boy arrived?”

I don’t remember what I said, or what happened next, but I remember exactly how I felt. For the first time in a long time, the increasing pressures of modern, accelerated adult life slipped away. For the first time in a long time, I felt like a little boy; wide-eyed, full of wonder, and 100% unique.

Please visit my “Making ‘Mister Rogers & Me'” blog to finish reading this post…