2008 Woodie Awards
With love from your secret admirer
Donald Woodard
Issue date: 12/16/05 Section: Opinions
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There has been someone who has constantly ran through my mind since my first day on campus. No matter what has been going on in my life, you have been there. Through my ups and my downs, you have been there in my life, serving as a constant reminder that things are going to be better. You are my inspiration. You are my everything. They say God makes everyone in his image and with you this could not be any clearer. You are my heart, my rock and my everything.
I remember the first time I saw you. It was early in the fall 2003 semester. We were both scheduled to cover the unveiling of a Cesar Chavez painting in the Student Union. I was but a young freshman reporter, still trying to figure out nut graphs and proper usage of the word "there."
It was near three in the afternoon. The festivities of the day were just beginning when I saw you across the crowded walkway connecting the two floors of the Student Union. You stood with your polo shirt on and dark blue jeans. I was mesmerized with your golden locks and perfectly-chiseled looks. You were tall, not so dark but very good-looking. I was hooked from then on.
After the unveiling, we both stood by the painter looking for interviews. I thought that you had to be a professional reporter the way you were prepared with your questions and your quick ad-libs to certain questions, showing your skill as a well-rounded journalist.
Our eyes locked. Did you feel the connection? I did. I pray at night that you felt it also.
I later learned that you were not a professional, but still a student. Not yet a adult but so far from a child.
When I found out you were actually a co-worker of mine, my heart fluttered.
As time went on, our relationship grew. You were already an editor on the staff so when I found out that I had received the position of Assistant Tempo Editor the next semester, I nearly cried from excitement. We would be together more. I dreamed of late nights spent in the Flyer office, just you and me. There were others there, but only you existed in my eyes.
I remember the first time I saw you. It was early in the fall 2003 semester. We were both scheduled to cover the unveiling of a Cesar Chavez painting in the Student Union. I was but a young freshman reporter, still trying to figure out nut graphs and proper usage of the word "there."
It was near three in the afternoon. The festivities of the day were just beginning when I saw you across the crowded walkway connecting the two floors of the Student Union. You stood with your polo shirt on and dark blue jeans. I was mesmerized with your golden locks and perfectly-chiseled looks. You were tall, not so dark but very good-looking. I was hooked from then on.
After the unveiling, we both stood by the painter looking for interviews. I thought that you had to be a professional reporter the way you were prepared with your questions and your quick ad-libs to certain questions, showing your skill as a well-rounded journalist.
Our eyes locked. Did you feel the connection? I did. I pray at night that you felt it also.
I later learned that you were not a professional, but still a student. Not yet a adult but so far from a child.
When I found out you were actually a co-worker of mine, my heart fluttered.
As time went on, our relationship grew. You were already an editor on the staff so when I found out that I had received the position of Assistant Tempo Editor the next semester, I nearly cried from excitement. We would be together more. I dreamed of late nights spent in the Flyer office, just you and me. There were others there, but only you existed in my eyes.
