I was 23 and in my first few weeks at The Island Packet when I met Gene Wilder. I came back to the paper, chirping away that I had met him. Everyone in the newsroom knew I had met him. I called my dad, who was a big fan, and bragged about the meeting. And I put a small line in my story that actor Gene Wilder had been in attendance.
A week or so went by and I was at Casey's sports bar, which the newspaper single-handedly kept in business, and in walks Gene Wilder. He immediately attracted the attention of some young women, signing autographs. I was about to tell my friends, when the bartender comes over and says: "that asshole. he goes around town pretending to be Gene Wilder to get drinks. I should tell those girls."
Needless to say, my colleagues erupted in laughter and I turned bright red. I had been duped and put it in a story. It was humiliating to say the least. Epilogue- a few months later in the same bar the Braves were on one of the giant televisions. The cameras panned the crowd and settled on "Gene Wilder" - our friend from the island - and called out the famous actor. Actor he was, but it wasn't Gene Wilder.
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