Deborah Rieselman

"When I stand before God at the end of my life,
I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left
and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.'"
- Erma Bombeck

I've got a long way to go, I know, but I'm making a stab at it. So far, I have lullabyed abandoned babies in a Haitian orphanage, sat in a Navajo hogan and listened to elderly Native Americans talk about life, done maintenance work at an Appalachian school and embraced dying AIDS patients. Afterward I got to write about the experiences -- in an impressive format that someone else created for me. Then I won awards for it -- 105 in all. Somehow, I feel guilty of a scam.

Life, for me, has been exciting. I attended journalism school at the University of Kentucky, won two investigative journalism awards as managing editor of three Northern Kentucky community newspapers and moved to Erlanger to restore a Victorian home. I've also managed to inflict serious embarrassment upon my son Chuck, who now teaches high school English in Cincinnati.

I'm restoring the house, cozily fitted with a cat, a large labrador retriever, a family of well-behaved ghosts and an antique coffin in the basement, leftover from producing 25 community haunted houses. When not dressed up as a ghoul, I like to wear pioneer clothes, play the lap dulcimer and dance in custom-made wooden Lancaster clogs at historic events. In addition, I have carved pumpkins while telling tall tales at the Cincinnati History Museum and tried to bring Bible stories alive in various church settings.

Fortunately, excitement has also followed my 19 years and three promotions at UC Magazine, including an interview with Pulitzer-winning playwright Edward Albee; a hug from the real-life John Boy Walton, Earl Hamner; a personal serenade of "You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch" from the composer, Al Hague; an invitation to attend the UC senior show of a student who had once been brain dead and miraculously recovered; and the chance to meet numerous people who had saved me from a serious wreck caused by a drunk driver.

Best of all, I get to do it all while working with talented, supportive people at an institution where I can get all the continuing education I want.

And I get paid for this. You'll have to admit it does sound like a scam, doesn't it?

Deb Rieselman
Editor, University of Cincinnati Magazine
Assistant director, public relations
Deb.Rieselman@UC.edu