Accidental PR

I have to do PR for my work. I love to do PR for the volunteer, non-profit groups I'm associated with. There's little pressure--they don't expect much--and when we actually cadge a mention, everyone's so grateful.

Back when the Seattle Times still had local editions, Sherry Grindeland had a local people and events column in the Eastside version. I'd developed a relationship with her, I'd send her a bit about a fundraiser for the high school football team, or a family event at our preschool. I found that if I was polite and found a humorous slant, she'd pick up the piece.

Our church was installing a new priest. After the service, we were going to have a BBQ picnic catered by one of those companies that brings a big smoker trailed behind a truck. The service went veryvery long, and about half way through, tendrils of fragrant smoke began to waft through the church. It was divine torture.

Suffice it to say that the receiving line went very quickly--people couldn't wait to get some brisket! (The new priest apparently felt welcomed anyway--it's been almost 10 years, and he's still with us.) I wrote Sherry and she used it as her lead the next week. Everyone was thrilled.

But now for the rest of the story.

The new priest's mom was a devotee of the Paul Harvey radio show. The next weekend, sitting in her kitchen in Wisconsin, she was stunned to hear the story of her son's installation in that unmistakable Harvey cadence. The show had picked up the piece from the Grindeland column. We played a tape of the story in church the next week. It was the first time--and last time--I received a round of applause for PR work.

I'm fairly certain that was the widest distribution of any press release I've written. I'd love to say I planned that, but let's call it accidental PR, which can sometimes be the best kind.