PW-1. Spencer Scarcello

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PW-1 - Spencer Scarcello


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water than growing them in the ground.” We made small talk for about half an hour, and then I told her to check the buckets.

      “OMG! (Oh, My God),” she shouted. “They are all germinating. . . . This is incredible!” She snapped more pictures and moved her chair right in front of the four buckets so she wouldn’t miss a thing.

      A short time later, my wife Tina returned home from grocery shopping. After putting the groceries away, she came into the garage and joined us. I introduced her to Misty, and they struck up a conversation. As it turned out, they are both from Cleveland. They talked about where they each lived and all the places my wife had remembered visiting when she was a little girl. Misty filled her in on how things have changed since then. The two very much enjoyed talking to each other, and Misty, I think, was feeling a little homesick.

      My wife excused herself and went into the house to get something for us to snack on along with some lemonade. As the hours passed, and in between taking more pictures of the plants’ progress, the conversation became a bit more personal. Misty, feeling quite comfortable with Tina, began sharing her childhood memories. . . . They were not good ones. Her mother and father were both drug addicts, and her father was sent to prison for killing a man over a drug deal gone bad when she was only five years old. Her mother was in and out of jail numerous times and was never really there for Misty. As a child, Misty suffered child abuse at the hands of her mother’s boyfriends and was raped on several occasions. At one point, when she was around twelve years old, her mother began pimping her out to earn money for drugs.

      Misty said her only saving grace was Jane Flynn, a girl who lived next door to her in Cleveland. Jane was six years older than Misty and quickly became her mentor. Jane guided Misty through all the horrible times in her life and convinced her to stick it out until she could graduate high school. If not for Jane, Misty would have run away on several occasions. As graduation time drew near, Jane called Misty over to her house to talk. Jane had graduated college with a bachelor’s degree in business and had been looking for a job, preferably in California. She told Misty to sit down. Jane then informed Misty that she had sent out several résumés over the past few months and had received a job offer from Channel 19 news in Sacramento, California.

      “I have accepted the offer,” she said, “and I will be leaving for California next week.”

      Misty was crushed and began sobbing loudly. Jane was her only friend and confidant; how would she survive without her?

      Jane said, “You only have three months until you graduate; you can do that standing on your head. Here’s what I have in mind,” she continued. Jane handed Misty a cell phone and said, “Call me whenever you want. We will stay in contact regularly, and when you graduate, I will send you a plane ticket to Sacramento, where you will move in with me.” This greatly lifted Misty’s spirits, and the two hugged and cried together.

      The day soon came when Jane would be leaving; Misty went to her house to say goodbye. The two talked for a long time about the past, and Jane reiterated her promise to Misty. “Your new life is about to begin,” Jane said. “Hang in there a few more months; everything is going to be fine, I promise.” Jane’s taxi pulled up outside, and she left. Misty returned home and balled her eyes out. The next three months passed very slowly, and Misty marked off each day on the calendar in her room. She and Jane spoke frequently on the phone, and Jane would give Misty updates on her status. Jane had moved into a two-bedroom apartment just outside Sacramento. She said, “I have a room all prepared for you, and I think you are going to love it here; I am so anxious to see you again.”

      True to her word, after graduation Jane sent Misty a plane ticket to Sacramento. Misty gathered up her things, wrote her mother a scathing letter containing everything she had wanted to tell her for years, laid it on the kitchen table, and left. Jane picked Misty up at the airport, and they went back to the apartment. It took a few days for Misty to get settled and familiarize herself with the area. She was happier than she had ever been before. She took night classes at the local college along with a few more online. She had always dreamed of becoming a news anchor, and with Jane working at a news station, there might be a real possibility of her dream coming true. After a few months of waiting tables at a few different restaurants, Misty got a big break. Jane told her the station was looking for an intern, and the job was hers if she wanted it.

      “The pay is not much, but it’s a foot in the door toward your dream,” Jane said. Misty was thrilled and took the job.

      “That’s how I got to where I am today,” she told us.

      My wife and I were both very shocked, hearing of the horror Misty had gone through. She, on the other hand, had a big smile on her face. “That part of my life is over, and I’m not looking back,” she said.

      “We are both very proud of you,” I said, which was strange because we had just met the girl. Several hours had passed by now, and the plants were well on their way to maturity. Misty excitedly called her boss and sent him the pictures she had taken. “It’s for real!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it!” I could only hear one side of the conversation, but I got the idea he was as excited as she was. He was asking her a lot of questions she couldn’t answer, and she said, “Hang on. I’m going to put you on speakerphone.”

      “Hello, Mister Diamond. It’s Robert Ulson. . . . We spoke briefly this morning.”

      “Please call me Ral,” I said.

      “Wow, Ral! It seems you have something here that could change the course of history.”

      “I hope so,” I replied.

      “With your permission, here’s what I would like to do,” Misty’s boss continued. “I will send out a reporter and film crew tomorrow morning about 7:00 a.m. They will need to have constant access in order to document everything from start to finish. Is that okay?”

      I responded, “The reporter is already here ― just send a film crew.“

      “With all due respect, Ral, Misty is not a reporter; she is an intern,” came the reply.

      “If you want the story . . . she’s the reporter,” I insisted.

      Robert conceded, saying, “You heard the man, Misty. Get yourself a motel for the night, charge it to the station, and be back there to meet the film crew in the morning. This is your big break, kid. Make me proud.”

      Misty hung up the phone, threw her arms around me, and said, “Thank you so very much. . . . You have no idea what this means to me.”

      “You certainly deserve it,” I said.

      “OMG! I have nothing to wear!” she exclaimed.

      My wife said, “Come on, honey. Let’s go to the mall and get you something beautiful for your big debut.”

      “But I don’t have any money,” Misty said.

      “That’s okay kid. This one’s on us,” I said. “Besides, this will make a great story when you are world famous in a couple days.”

      Just then the whole thing sunk in, and Misty had to sit down. “That’s right,” she said. “This will go worldwide within days. This is too much. I can’t believe it.”

      After a few minutes, she regained her composure and started to leave with my wife. I said she could spend the night with us if she wanted to, and she replied, “Thank you so much, but I think I had better do exactly what my boss told me to do.”

      I agreed. “Good thinking, Misty.”

      While the girls were shopping, I ordered us all some pizza and made reservations for Misty at the nearby motel. The next morning she arrived about a half hour before the film crew. She looked fantastic! She helped me hang some sheets on the walls of the garage so no one would recognize our house. After the crew got set up, she started to interview me. I had told her beforehand that I wanted to remain anonymous for now. She asked all the questions you would expect, and then she ended by asking me what I wanted to do with the “Food Formula,” as it had quickly became known. I said I was hoping to hear from some large chemical


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