There are some weeks when I wish I could fit everything from an interview into a story, and last week was definitely one of them.
One of my least favorite things about a good interview is that so much is said that gets omitted from the story, if it’s even used at all — after all, we do have to rein ourselves in to make one clear, easy-to-follow story that fits on our page. I’ll often keep some of the tidbits to myself, maybe busting them out in conversation with a friend or family member.
And then there are interviews, like the one I recently completed for the Bill Roetzheim story, where I just can’t help myself: Some of the stories I hear are so good that, if it was said to me on the record, I have to write about it somewhere.
Betty Jo Roetzheim has a wealth of stories from her travels with her husband, and we probably only scratched the surface at the dining room table. She and her husband toured the world to promote the sport of gymnastics, and the Roetzheims made it a point to immerse themselves in the culture of each place they visited.
“Life with Bill was always exciting,” she says.
For example, B.J. developed a habit of learning a song in a country’s native language and then performing it for some of the locals. It would normally be a children’s song, or something simple, but it always worked: The locals were thrilled to see a blond American girl singing in German, Mandarin, Arabic or whatever language of the land.
But, the following story came on a family camping trip in Mexico, because, when B.J. told me about it, I pictured another “National Lampoon’s Vacation” movie.
On that trip to Mexico, the Roetzheim family once spent some time at the Yucatan Peninsula. This happened before the land was developed, so the family was able to get the most out of the wilderness.
“Just gorgeous scenery,” B.J. remembers.
Because they needed electricity with their holiday rambler, the family parked at one of the airports at night to sleep. This wasn’t an uncommon practice, and the airport charged campers $2 per night for lodging.
Because the water in the area wasn’t considered safe to drink, B.J. made sure to warn her family to steer clear of it. It didn’t go as well as planned.
“My son, Richard, was maybe 2 or 3 years old, and he drank the water,” she says. “We’re setting up the trailer, and he comes up to me and says, ‘Mom? There’s nothing wrong with the water. It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about the water. It’s good!’ I said, ‘Well, how did you know?’ He said, ‘I tasted it!’ Fortunately, he didn’t get sick.”
One thing they were more worried about than water, though, was the threat of banditos. This materialized one night, when the family was driving around, and Bill noticed someone following them.
Suspicious, Bill pulled into the nearest gas station to see what would happen. Sure enough, the guy pulled in behind them.
“He came up to the car and we just thought, ‘Oh, my God,’” B.J. says. “Then he came up to the window and tapped the window, and he says, ‘You seem to know where you’re going. We don’t. Do you know of a place to stay?’”
Bill told the man about the airport, that anyone could camp out on the runway for a fee, and that that’s where the family was headed. The man then revealed that he wasn’t a bandito.
“He said, ‘Oh, that’s wonderful,’” B.J. says. “‘I have been doing missionary work here, for the summer, and we’re ready to go home, and I just didn’t know where to go with the trailer.’ So, we said, ‘Follow us!’”
The Roetzheims led the man to the airport, and both parties fell asleep in their vehicles. The next morning, there was another tap on the window.
This time, it was one of the men who worked at the airport.
“That’ll be $4,” he said.
“Bill says, ‘Oh? I thought it was two,’” B.J. says. “And the guy said, ‘It is. But, your friend down there said that you would pay for him.’
The nice man, who was not necessarily a bandito or a missionary worker, left the airport in the morning, before the Roetzheims woke up, and stuck them with the bill. What a guy.
