ARLINGTON, TEXAS — The Texas Rangers beat the New York Yankees, and Bobby Ross Jr. and I had met in Arlington to see it happen.
Maybe that’s why I left my purse in the seat beside me when the game ended. Absentminded joy.
Said joy morphed into panic after I exited Globe Life Field and realized my bag was not on my shoulder. That would be the bag with my wallet, my ID, my credit and debit cards, a couple of prescriptions and some much-loved and really expensive prescription sunglasses.
Bobby Ross Jr. and Cheryl Mann Bacon pose together at a Texas Rangers game in Globe Life Field.
And my car fob.
Yes, I had a spare — at home in Abilene, 165 miles away. Yes, I went back inside the stadium to look for the purse, checked with lost and found and file a loss report. Yes, I immediately put a hold on the cards, berated myself repeatedly and was reallllly nice to Bobby, who was well on his way to Dallas when he had to return to Arlington to get me.
Though editors generally have earned their gruff, green eyeshade reputation, he did not complain. Because Bobby is a Rangers fan. The Rangers had just beaten the Yankees. No forgetful freelancer could diminish his joy.
And he’s a really good friend.
The game was a side benefit to the real reason for the trip: The Christian Chronicle Board of Trustees retreat beginning the next morning, making Bobby’s patience that much more impressive.
So while he drove, I messaged my text groups: my family, the group euphemistically called “The Girls,” and HWC (as in “Hello, Win Column”), composed of six women who are ardent Rangers fans.
Christian Chronicle staff members pose for a group photo during a meeting in Dallas. From left are Cheryl Mann Bacon, Sawmi Sektak, Bobby Ross Jr., Erik Tryggestad, Calvin Cockrell, Connie Penick, Melinda Wilson and Alan Phillips.
Advice began pouring in. At one point, I actually was booking a roundtrip flight to Abilene using American Airlines miles to pick up the key fob. Then Bobby reminded me I had no ID. I couldn’t get on a plane.
So friends in Abilene contrived a plan to retrieve the extra fob from my kitchen drawer and FedEx it to me. I have great friends.
Still, this meant the car would be unattended, in an Arlington parking lot for two days. A kind Arlington police officer couldn’t promise my vehicle wouldn’t be towed, but he didn’t expect that to happen. That was consoling. Sort of.
For those unfamiliar with the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, it’s really big. As in 16,000 square miles. As in 8.3 million people, one of whom was probably trying on my sunglasses at that very moment. Globe Life Field in Arlington is roughly in the middle of it. The hotel where Chronicle staff and board were staying was 27 miles east of there. That’s where we were when my phone buzzed alerting me to a Facebook message from my new best friend, Angie Gallegos.
The lack of punctuation tipped me off that the sender was probably young. I didn’t care. She had found the purse and waited for someone to return. When no one came, she took it with her and found me on Facebook. Who needs commas?
“I didn’t want it to go in the wrong hands,” the message read, “so I’m reaching out to let you know I have your bag!”
“I didn’t want it to go in the wrong hands, so I’m reaching out to let you know I have your bag!”
I asked where we could meet, and she sent me a link for a QuikTrip some 21 miles east of our hotel. I told her we could be there in 30 minutes.
While Bobby drove some more, I updated the text groups whose faith in humanity was not exactly devout.
“If the QuikTrip is sketchy call police to be nearby,” replied my attorney friend, Jane, just seconds after I had told Bobby, “Jane would probably call the police to meet her there.”
“Don’t go by yourself,” said my son.
We arrived at the QuikTrip, next door to a funeral home. A nice neighborhood. Lots of customers around. I messaged Angie to alert her that we had arrived, and she said she’d be there in five minutes.
My daughter texted after seven minutes to check on me.
Cheryl Mann Bacon takes a selfie with Angie Gallegos after meeting at a QuikTrip to exchange Bacon’s purse.
In defense of my friends and family, I had agreed to meet a total stranger at a gas station. But Angie Gallegos was no sketchy stranger.
The high school senior was still grinning from the Rangers’ win when she walked up with my purse. We chatted. I took a selfie. I asked her about the medallion on the gold chain she wore with her Rangers T-shirt — St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes. That seemed appropriate — for a Rangers fan and a retriever of lost purses.
I told her I’d send her a reward, which she assured me wasn’t necessary.
“I just wanted to do the right thing.”
“I just wanted to do the right thing,” she said. I sent one anyway.
As Bobby navigated through a full-stop traffic jam that involved 11 police cars and no apparent cause, the text groups celebrated, more than one commenting that their faith in humanity was restored, a much-needed restoration.
My children were even a tad sarcastic. I don’t know where they get that.
“Did you offer to write her scholarship, job and college recommendation letters?” my daughter asked. I should do that.
I don’t know much more about Angie, but she made my life a whole lot better because she just wanted to do the right thing. That’s a great recommendation for all of us.
CHERYL MANN BACON is a contributing editor for The Christian Chronicle. She served for 20 years as chair of the Department of Journalism and Mass Communication at Abilene Christian University in Texas.
