Sitting One Row in Front of a Hero

Traveling as much as I do, I occasionally share an airplane with people of varying levels of fame. I once sat next to Ron Santo (Chicago Cubs legend), across the aisle from Mark Grace (Cubs and Diamondbacks first baseman), and hit Ryne Sandburg with my overhead luggage (another Cubs Hall of Famer). I have gotten to meet with well-know elected officials in DC (Sens. Jon Kyl, Dick Durbin), and once saw Sarah Jessica Parker in the security line at O'Hare (and, yes, followed her for a while to make sure I could describe her entire outfit, shoes, handbag, and accessories to all my friends). And despite these many brushes with the famous, I was still a bit starstruck by the person who sat behind me on the airplane on Monday.

When I was 8 years old, I remember watching the "Battle of the Sexes" match of Billie Jean King vs Bobby Riggs. Billie famously won and in many ways changed the course of history for women's athletics. She was not only the most popular woman's tennis player in the 1970s, but she was the most well-known female athlete of any sport. Earlier this month, she received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Obama at the White House. She founded and ran the World Team Tennis organization for many years, and is an outspoken proponent for women's sports. On Monday, she was sitting behind me in seat 5B from Phoenix to Chicago.

As we were lining up at the gate, Billie was certainly recognizable but acted just as "regular" as the rest of us. She joked with fellow passengers, posed for a picture with a young child, and was wearing a comfortable jogging suit (with her custom "The King" tennis shoes). On the plane, she struggled to get her luggage in the overhead bin, and chatted amiably with her seatmate.

I, meanwhile, was agonizing over whether or not to approach her. Should I ask for her autograph? Ask her to take a photo with me? Try to casually chat with her about the weather or her Kindle? Shy by nature, I couldn't bring myself to any overly bold action. It would have been too awkward to lean around my seat and try to act nonchalant. But, I didn't want to pass up an opportunity. I had played sports since I was a little kid, and I do clearly remember her and what an impact it made when she beat Bobby Riggs. Not only that specific event, but I remember her being a classy athlete and tennis player at a time when you didn't see many women playing any sports on television. She was an icon for my generation, and many others, and someone who truly helped to change the world.

As I was sitting there wondering what to do, I remembered something from a speaker at a YWCA Board Retreat I attended this past Saturday. He ended his comments by reminding all of us to say thank you to people who have worked hard to make a difference. What a great lesson, and how applicable in my current situation.

So, I got out a business card and wrote this on the back:

"Ms. King: Thank you for inspiring countless women athletes of my generation to compete with all our hearts and to beat the boys. And thank you for your continuing work for women's sports. You will always be a hero to so many of us. Sincerely, Karen Johnson."

When the plane landed and we taxied to the gate, I knew that Billie's luggage and mine were in the same bin. As I pushed her suitcase towards her, I handed her the card and said, "I would be remiss not to share this message with you." She asked me my name and thanked me for the sentiments. With that, I walked off the plane and back to my mundane life of anonymity.

I do hope Billie Jean appreciated the sincere note of thanks. I am sure she has more business cards and thank you notes than she knows what to do with, but after sharing airspace with her for three hours, she seems just "regular" enough to appreciate the thoughts. I feel grateful that I had the chance to say thank you to someone I had admired for so long. It reminded me to never miss an opportunity to say thank you to people famous and not who have had an impact on my life.

Thanks Billie Jean. And safe travels.