For Thursday, November 6, 1997 Drummer Column, Gibbs, 718 words

Ruffled raffle

If I'm going to tell stories, I'll need themes. I told you the gorilla story, so let me stay with that theme: most embarrassing moments.

Every August the carnival came to Ridgway. We called it the Fireman's Celebration. It was a fun(d) raiser for the volunteer firefighters. Every evening the colored, blinking ride lights came on and lit the sky. The townsfolk flocked in. Heated Bingo and hourly raffles in the center tents drew huge crowds.

My favorite time during Carnival Week was at 6 a.m., the morning after, when the rides and booths were closed. My friends and I liked walking around in the mist looking for things people dropped -- money, keys, toys, whatever.

What we found most often were discarded raffle tickets. Hundreds of little tickets that read: "Keep This Stub" littered the ground around the Bingo tent. Most were in perfect condition, and came in four different colors for each hourly drawing.

We collected them. We stuffed our pockets with them, took them home, counted them into lots of 25, and rubber-banded them. We used to compete to see who had the best collection.

Each year, for several years, when the carnival left town, we held our own carnival in Ronnie Mitchell's back yard. We had games and goofy rides and sold tickets to the neighborhood kids for pennies apiece. One ride was to sit in Ronnie's Uncle Bill's stock car and pretend to be racing. We would narrate the race and rock the car.

Our most popular game was "Fish for a Prize." Ticket sellers filled a box with old toys we didn't want anymore, and set it behind a blue water-like curtain. The fishermen would stick their fishing poles behind the curtain, and Ronnie would hang toys on the hooks. The kids loved their prizes.

The year of our first backyard carnival, I went into the fifth grade. My teacher was Mrs. Warmbeer (sic). I remember her classroom because it had its own cloakroom. In 4^th grade we hung our coats in the hall.

One evening, late in September, I was playing in my bedroom and I came across my box of raffle tickets. I still had a bunch left. I wondered how I could have fun with them at school.

Then I got the brilliant idea of holding a raffle. We didn't have a raffle at our carnival because we didn't want to tear our tickets in half. Now I figured I could spare a few. Besides, I was intrigued with the thought of holding a raffle. I wanted the power of reaching into a basket and pulling out a winner.

First I wrote a ticket out for every kid in my class. I made it a point to include everyone, and got the names off my class picture. Then I tore each ticket neatly in half and put half in my dad's hat. I shook them up, stirred them around, reached in and pulled out a stub.

And the winner was…"Marilyn Sidoni."

"Hmm," I thought. "Marilyn Sidoni. I've never talked to her before. I wonder what I should give her as a prize."

I roamed the house looking for some item to give away, and eventually found myself in my little sister's side of our bedroom. "Of course. A doll. The perfect gift," I thought. So, I grabbed one of my sister's dolls. It wasn't the best or the worst doll, just one I hoped she wouldn't miss.

The next morning before class I told Marilyn Sidoni to come into the cloak room for a big surprise. She followed me in. Proudly, I reached into my coat and pulled out the doll. "Here," I said. "You won the raffle." I held the doll out to her, but she didn't take it.

"What raffle?" she asked.

"My raffle," I explained. "I held a raffle and you won. This is your prize." Again I tried to give her my little sister's raggedy, beat-up doll, and again she refused it.

"What are you talking about? I don't want to win your raffle. I don't want that doll." She turned around and walked back into the classroom. I stood there, holding the doll, wondering what I could possibly have done wrong. Anyone at the summer carnival would have been thrilled to win it.