"No big deal."(Kevin Hughes) The Reporter checked her hair one more time in the side view mirror on the Van. She wasn’t vain in the usual sense of the word. What she was …was professional. She knew the Viewers were looking at her dress, her hair, and her body…as well as listening to her words. She was driven by her dream of becoming the most successful and admired Professional Journalist in News History.

So far, at least in her mind (and her list of accomplishments backed up her mind) she was on the Fast Track. Her Frontline Reports from the horrific carnage in the Ukraine were already legend in the Industry. Her double coup of getting to have Interviews with both the Generals in charge of the debacle, one Russian, one Ukrainian…put another seal on her growing reputation as “Thee Reporter.”

So why in the world was she back in the States. In a small town in the middle of North East Ohio. Covering a Funeral of a guy she never heard of. She almost quit after quite the brouhaha with her Boss and the Head of the Network. She would have quit. She wanted to quit. Until she heard what the Head of the Network said to her:

“Look, Meagan, it is very simple. It’s no big deal. Just go to Berea (Ohio), talk to a few people, get a feel for the guy, and find out why his Funeral had to be held in a darn Football Stadium, and televised throughout the State.”

“Wait, what? A Football Stadium? Why? Was he an Athlete or something. You know I don’t cover Sports. Hell, since High School Soccer I haven’t been to a single Sporting Event. Sports are popular with ordinary folks, but they aren’t really any thing more than Entertainment.”

The Network Head (as driven as Meagan in her own way) just stared at Megan for a few minutes.

“We aren’t asking you to cover Sports. We are asking you to tell us, and the world, why some nobody in a small town in Ohio deserves a Funeral where 67,431 people are expected to show up at First Energy Stadium and another 35,000 at Progressive Stadium to watch his Funeral on the Big Screens.”

She stared at her Boss and the Head of the Network.

“That’s impossible. Anybody with that kind of pull…I would know about. Heck everyone would.”

Two heads nodded in unison.

“Yeah, but we don’t know anything but his name. We haven’t seen this kind of Public display of grief and caring since Doctor Martin Luther King, and President John F. Kennedy were killed. It’s no big deal. Except to those folk in Ohio. Tell us why!”

Megan made her name by getting to the “nut” of a story. She dug, burrowed, and mined information (and people) until she found out what was the real issue, topic, or complaint. She would get to the bottom of this story too. There had to be more to it than a life well lived. A hundred thousand people wanting to say goodbye at your funeral doesn’t happen just because you were a good guy…does it?

She only had three days. She landed at Cleveland Hopkins Airport at Nine thirty AM, on Thursday. The Funeral was on Saturday. She didn’t have much time. Luckily the Airport was a mere fifteen minutes from her Bed and Breakfast in Berea. She would start there. It started when she got her Rental Car.

“Here for the Funeral?”

“Excuse me?”

“The Funeral. You are getting our last car. Everyone has been flying in since Tuesday to get a car to go to the Funeral.”

Meagan was glad she didn’t wear any of her Network logos or have them on her luggage. She wanted to be incognito until she met up with her Recording Team at Noon. Even then she planned to be a very low key Reporter. Just an “awe shucks, isn’t it terrible” kind of approach. She wanted people to talk about him, not be intimidated by her. She knew just how to play herself down and make the person she was sticking her microphone in front of …open up. She could bond and build trust so quickly that her nickname in the Industry was “Miss Sincerity.”

She turned on her innocent unaware persona:

“Who Died? Some Political guy or a Local Sports Hero?”

The Woman behind the counter shook her head. Her eyes grew a bit shiny as a tear welled up.

“Oh no. Nothing like that. Bill stayed out of Politics …I think he played Sports in High School, but he just wanted to be on a Team. I don’t think he really ever cared about winning or losing.”

“Bill?”

“Yeah, Bill Cooper. I guess his real name was William Frances Cooper, but everyone called him “Bill.” Well, except Darlene. She called him Coop.”

With that last little bit of information, the woman handed over her keys flashing a small tight grief ridden smile.

“I don’t know how Darlene is going to make it through this.”

Meagan took the keys, patted the woman’s hand.

“I take it Darlene was his wife?”

The woman shook her head.

“She was his rock. Your car is the red Toyota Corolla, slot number 21. Have a good visit.”

Meagan was amazed at the amount of Information these Mid Western Folks gave out in casual conversation. She already knew more about “Bill” and his Life then she did when she landed. And that was without conducting a single interview. She went to get her car. A man in a Business suit was throwing an overnight bag into the black Ultima parked in slot 20.

He turned and saw Meagan towing her two bags towards the red Corolla.

“You need some help throwing those in the trunk young lady?”

Meagan smiled. She really did like the casual good nature of these Mid Westerner’s. In New York, the guy would have either wanted money, or been hitting on her…or both. She could read this guy like a book. He just wanted to help …if needed.

“Actually, yes. The suitcase is a bit heavy.”

She keyed the trunk open. He lifted the bag with a grunt.

“Wow! You were going to put that in there by yourself? What’s in it? Lead weights?”

She laughed gently…so did he.

“No, just a bunch of cameras and recording equipment.”

His face lit up with recognition.

“Oh, are you in town to cover Bill’s Funeral? A bit of a step down for someone of your caliber…are they mad at you at the Network or something?”

Meagan’s mind reeled in shock. Mid Western folks might be casual and friendly but they aren’t slow. No, not at all.

“You a mind reader, because that is awfully close to why I am here.”

He smiled again and put out his hand to shake. She did.

“No, not a mind reader. But with Bill’s funeral growing so big, it wasn’t hard to figure out some Newsy folks would smell a story and want to know why so many folks care about someone who is really no big deal. Just a nice guy from a small town. That’s all. I wouldn’t have expected someone with your reputation for hard hitting interviews and biting commentary to be sent to find the story. So I figured the Bosses were mad at you.”

Meagan rethought how she was going to find out this story. If everyone was as sharp as this guy…none of her false sincerity was going to get her very far. So she opted for the pure truth instead.

“Yeah, I was kinda pissed when they offered the Story to me. But then I got intrigued. I mean are they really going to have his Funeral in the Football Stadium?”

Meagan wished she had her camera rolling, but this was all off the record anyway. She would remember most of the conversation. A story was starting to form in her mind.

The man leaned up against the trunk of his car, his head tilted at that same angle that dogs do when they are interested and curious.

“Yeah, Bill would have rolled on the ground laughing at that. The actually Funeral is going to be at Levitz Funeral Home, that’s just for Family and a few close friends. Then they are parading the Casket down to First Energy Stadium, with a quick swing by Progressive Filed for the folks over there. Then they are having a little thing at Edgewater Park on Sunday and Dar will throw his ashes in the water. Bill loved the beach.”

“Did Bill like the beaches in Hawaii, or Florida?”

Her Reporter mind had learned a long time ago how to phrase open ended questions that dug out information without conscious awareness. Just by that single leading question she could find out if Bill travelled, where and with whom. The guys answer was not what she was expecting. He laughed.

“Travel? Bill? No way. I don’t think he has been any further than Mentor on the Lake, or Hinckley Dam for the Buzzard Returns.”

“Buzzard’s return?”

Megan was getting the impression she was going to have to do a lot more research on the Local area. And Bill.

The guy smiled.

“Yeah, it is kinda quirky. Maybe an Ohio thing. You see the Buzzards alway return to the area around Hinckley Dam every year about the same time. People have a huge betting pool guessing when the First Buzzards return to roost. They sell shirts and sodas, and folks sit around the dam waiting to spot the Buzzards. Bill used to go out there with everyone and wait. Bill actually won the pool back in..oh, I guess it was the early seventies or so. Everyone signed his shirt that year: “The Buzzards are back!”

The guy chuckled over the memory.

“So he didn’t travel much. Why? Was he broke or something?”

“Broke? Bill? (Shaking his head slowly) Bill was the Richest person I ever knew.”

“He was Rich?”

The guy gave her a penetrating look. She would have to be careful. These Ohio guys were sharp.

“Oh, not in the sense of having lots of money. He did okay. Didn’t owe anybody, or have any debt. As he used to say:

“I got enough for me and Dar…and to get some folks a sandwich or sweater... if they need it.”

Meagan was getting a glimpse into Bill. She was starting to fill in the blanks.

“How do you know so much about Bill. Were you his friend?”

Another soft chuckle.

“Everyone was Bill’s friend. Everyone. Well, I have to go. It was nice meeting you. Wait till I tell my Wife I met the great Meagan Ross at the Rental Car pickup…she will not believe it when I tell her you are not as intimidating as you appear on TV. If you really want to know more about Bill, you might stop by the Bowling Alley over in North Olmsted…Buckeye Lanes. He had a lot of friends there. A lot.“

And with that, the guy got his car and left. She never even got his name. She laughed in her head: “Some Reporter you are…never even got the sources name.”

*****

The Bed and Breakfast was typically Mid-Western Quaint. A kind of bizarre mix of Italian Renaissance Architecture with turn of the Nineteenth Century solidness. There was even a landline phone (dial not pushbutton) sitting on a table in the foyer. It made Meagan smile when she saw it. She took a picture of it to post on her Twitter Account later.

Frank and Trisha McDonough met her in the Foyer next to the phone. It was their Bed and Breakfast. The old Mansion was a dump before they bought it two decade earlier. Now all ten bedrooms were filled from April to September. They opened again in December when folks came to see the house from the movie “A Christmas Story”. It was only a quick drive down 480 and they took advantage of the extra income. Then they closed again until April. It worked for them both.

“Sorry we didn’t meet you at the door.” Said Frank.

“We are just swamped, with everyone coming into town for Bill’s funeral. We are glad you are here though!” Said Trish.

Trisha’s sincerity was real and showed in her words and mannerisms.

“Did you know Bill?”

The couple looked at each other and smiled.

“Everyone knew Bill. You must be tired, let’s get you to your room. You are lucky. Only two of the bedrooms have ensuite bathrooms, yours is one of them.”

Meagan offered up a silent prayer of thanks. Thoughts of that scene from “Groundhog Day” had played out in her mind ever since they told her that she was staying in a Bed and Breakfast…and not a hotel.

“But why?”

She had asked her Assistant when told she would be in a B&B.

“There aren’t any Hotels anywhere in any direction for more than fifty miles that have any openings. They are all filled for the Funeral.”

She had filed that away to put in her story.

Frank lugged her heavy suitcase, and Trisha took her carryon bag. Her room was on the second floor, with a Northeast corner view. A walled garden and a huge hickory tree were right outside her window. It was a very pretty room. As Frank opened up two luggage stools to place her suitcases on, she asked another question. One she was learning was all she needed.

“What do you remember most about Bill?”

Frank snorted a laugh.

“Everything.”

Trisha tapped her husband on the shoulder. The most affectionate poke in the arm Meagan had ever seen. These Mid Western Couples sure live up to their billing. She smiled in her heart and mind…and it reached her face too.

“Franks just exaggerating. We had Bill stay with us a couple of times.”

“Why did he have to stay in a Bed and Breakfast, didn’t he have a house?”

They both laughed at her question.

“Oh, yeah, Bill and Dar have a house over on Sixth Street. Cute little thing. Dar is a Wizard with color and Bill was a wizard with tools. I bet they could have sold that house for three hundred thousand dollars…and that was before this latest bubble. You should drive by it and take a gander…if you can get down the street because of the cars.”

When Frank finished answering , Trisha picked right up, like they had rehearsed it or something.

“You know Dar will never sell. Bill wouldn’t have either. There’s talk that Dar might donate it to the City when she dies, as sort of a Museum/Memorial for Bill.”

At that, Trisha leaned into her husbands chest, her quiet sobs echoing in the now silent room. Frank let his own tears fall as he patted his wife’s back.

“Now, now, now…let it out. It’s okay honey.”

Meagan felt like a peeping tom. She wasn’t used to blatant glimpses into true intimacy. A part of her thought what a lucky couple they were to have each other. Another part of her wondered if she ever would have that same intimacy with some future partner. Then she got back to being a Professional.

“I am so sorry for your loss. Why did Bill stay here though, if he had a house?”

She was genuinely curious. Frank and Trisha could tell. So they answered her.

“Oh, well, there was that time when he took in those Refugees and let them have his house for a month until the Government could find them a place. He and Dar stayed here and helped us get ready to open. Dar did most of the Interior Decoration and Frank and Bill did a yeoman’s job of getting the old girl up to modern Code.”

(She tapped her husband on the shoulder again. A love tap. Meagan now had witnessed it twice and knew what it was for real.)

Frank took up the story from there.

“Then there was the time The O’Malley’s lost their home in that horrible fire. They had the five young ones at the time, so Dar and Bill moved in here again for the six weeks it took to rebuild their house. Bill was unbelievable with tools, and built their old home back with some modern improvements. He got most of the stuff donated by just asking if people could help or donate. Bill could get you to pitch in and help before you even knew your Wednesdays were shot. “

They both laughed again.

Meagan was seeing a pattern develop. A pattern of preternatural kindness. Bill seemed to be there for a lot of people at the time they needed him.

Frank and Trisha looked at the old Grandfather Clock in the Hallway outside Meagan’s room.

“Oh, my gosh. Here we are blabbering away, and you just got off a plane. I bet you need to freshen up. Have you eaten yet?”

Meagan was starting to see where the Mid Western Stereotype came from. The open genuine couple standing in front of her was leaning right up against it.

“I will catch a bite when I go out after I freshen up.”

“You most certainly will not. You just come on by the Kitchen when you are ready. I make breakfast for all my Boarders. And Supper is at Six PM, we all meet in the Formal Dining Room. Just write down your preferences and text them to Frank. Betty’s our full time cook and she makes one Meat Dish, and one Vegetarian Dish for Supper each night. It might not be what you ordered, but it will be tasty. “

And so it was that Meagan found herself in yet another conversation. This time with Betty the Full time cook. Meagan nibbled on her fresh omelet, some cantaloupe slices and sipped her fresh ground coffee while Betty raced around the kitchen in a flurry of preparation for a Full House for Dinner. She asked the same question she was asking everyone:

“So, were you a friend of Bill’s?”

She laughed as she got the usual response.

“Everyone was a friend of Bill’s. I don’t think that man had a single enemy on the planet. My Sister dated him a few times, until Dar came into the picture. Once you saw those two together…well, you knew it was the real thing. Fifty two years together and you would have thought they were on their first date. Remarkable those two were.“

Betty stopped to wipe a tear from her eye, as her own words sunk in. Bill…was…gone. Dar was on her own. Another tear fell.

Once again Meagan felt like she had somehow surprised someone into revealing intimate thoughts…and feelings. A picture of Bill AND Dar was gaining clarity in her mind.

“Bill got me this job here with Frank and Trisha. Like he always did when helping folks out, he sort of introduced you to someone who could help you and you could help them. I needed a job and a place to stay …and Trisha and Frank couldn’t keep up the House and fixing Supper for Sixteen People every night. I have been their cook now for over twenty years. No one has ever had a better job. God Bless Bill, Frank and Trisha!”

“What did Bill say when you got the job here?”

Betty turned to face Meagan directly. She was holding a wooden spoon in one hand, a mixing bowl in the other. Her eyes glinted with remember humor as she spoke:

“Congratulations Betty! I knew you could do it. Best cook in Cuyahoga County…period.”

I laughed and said:

“I have to thank you for introducing me to Trisha and Frank…and for your kind support. I think it was sneaky of you to have them over to you and Dar’s house for a meal I cooked. When they asked who made it, you paraded me out like I was a Michelin Chef.”

“So what did Bill say when you thanked him?”

"Same thing he always said when he helped folks get a job, a place to stay, or some help. “No Big Deal Betty. No big deal.”

Three days later, Meagan filed her last report. One that went Viral. She also quit her job. The Funeral was truly a celebration of Life. The spreading of Bill’s ashes at Edgewater Park was the most emotionally satisfying “Goodbye” she had ever attended. She had cried, hugged, and remembered with everyone near her. She thanked complete strangers for letting her cry on their shoulders. Bill would have been proud of their response, whether they were female or male:

“No big deal.”

Meagan took a job as Frank and Trisha’s new Housekeeper and sometimes Hostess. They were getting older…and Meagan was handling more and more of the daily grind. Betty and Meagan not only worked together well, but were finding out that Romance was possible between a hard driving former New York News Reporter in her early thirties and a solid no nonsense cook who just turned forty. They would be married right here in the garden of the B&B.

Dar had even made them both Wedding Dresses. They tried to pay her. She would have none of it.

“It’s no big deal. Glad to help out such a lovely couple.”

Meagan wished she had met Bill. In a way…she had. As she said in her last report that aired Nationally:

“Sometimes something that is no big deal…is."

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