A measure of the man

I don’t remember exactly what words rolled out of Ted Anderson’s mouth last time we spoke. All I remember was his presence.

I didn’t immediately recognize Ted when he strolled into the pancake house that late summer morning last year. Based on a mix of published reports and subjective behavior, I was looking for a cross between Lex Luthor and Shrek having a really horrendous day. I braced myself for a morning of angry commentary spewing from the mouth of some slick Blue Springs developer-type. Game on.

Then Anderson ambled through the doorway, publicist in tow. He wasn’t obese, green and angry. He wasn’t out to kill Superman with multi-family housing. He was an older gentleman with a sort-of smile and a cautious demeanor.

I remember what I ate – strawberry French toast if you’re keeping score – more than the dialogue between Ted and I that sunny day. He invested himself greatly in how Blue Springs develops, so it figures we chatted some about that. Given Ted’s direct manner of communication, logic dictates we probably talked about his image. If you’re really curious, you can go back and read a column I wrote about the meeting.

I spent the bulk of my time at The Examiner telling you about happenings in Lee’s Summit, Oak Grove and Grain Valley, so I didn’t know Ted very well. As such I stumbled into the trap of public opinion. People in my world believed Ted was a loud-mouthed troublemaker, so yours truly hopped on the Perception Bandwagon and followed suit. Again, I had not even met the man.

I’m not going to say Ted was all halos and lollipops during our lone meeting. Frankly, I spent half the meeting reinforcing the fact I wasn’t going to use some napalm on his reputation. The most interesting part of the exercise was I actually enjoyed myself. I didn’t always agree with him, but it was good, productive conversation.

Now Ted is gone, the victim of a small airplane crash near Mark Twain National Forest. I won’t offer an eulogy because one brunch meeting hardly qualifies one to talk about a man’s life, especially someone polarizing like Ted.

Someone is going to read this column and roll their eyes.

The dictionary definition for “perception” is flawed. You can’t even discuss the word without including the term “lazy.” It’s so convenient to soak up some backdoor commentary or half-truths and form a thought than to truly learn about something or someone. We all know this, but we’re human. We often take the path of least resistance. Oftentimes we toss aside good opportunities as a result.

Ted is gone, and I’ve got yet another journalism war story to regale family and friends with during holidays or other times when no one is really listening. I’m not a better man because I met Ted, just a slightly more well rounded one.

Farewell, Ted. I barely knew you.