I thought about all those people who had gunned for me and how badly I felt at the time. Now, I was finally able to let go of it. It was my turn to be vindicated. I had done what few in my business can or will do. In Radio, your market size is the stripes on your uniform and the medals on your chest.
I had been decorated, and highly.
I was also grateful. Some wonderful people had helped me along the way and I did not forget them. Specifically one man. On my trip to Illinois, I passed through Ohio. When I neared Newark, Ohio, I exited the highway. I traveled north on Route 13 one more time and turned into the parking lot of WCLT-AM/FM. I went to the back door and knocked on it. It was Saturday, but I was pretty certain the man I was looking for would be there working hard. The door opened and Bob Pricer stood there.
“Hello Mr. Pricer,” I said. “Do you remember me?”
“Yes,” he replied with a smile. “Corey. Corey Deitz! Come in!”
He escorted me to his office and we sat down. I told him I was on my way to Chicago to take a new job. His face lit up. I could see he was pleased. Bob Pricer gave much to radio over the years. He allowed people like me to learn it, and helped us move on when we were ready.
“I would not be on this trip today” I said, “if it had not been for the kindness of people like you who helped me during those early years. I just wanted to stop by and say thank you.”
He didn't speak for a moment. I could see he was genuinely touched. A certain contentment enveloped his face as if everything he had ever done was suddenly put very neatly in place. It meant a lot that I remembered him. Maybe that's all any of us strive for - to be remembered. The Bob Pricers and the Henry Del Toros - they all just want to be remembered.
We all just want to be remembered.
Sometimes, people mistakenly think their lives have not mattered much and then they are suddenly proven quite wrong. Bob Pricer spent
