The Little Viking

By Ann Marie Moscovics & Lou Petrucci

Kenny Solomon loved everything he came in contact with.  Everything.

From the day he was born, he lived life to the fullest.

He played every game and every sport his mother and father introduced him to with immeasurable desire and passion.  This was the only way Kenny knew.

Since he was the oldest of three, he set the best examples.  Before he would go to sleep he always said his prayers.

Kenny would pray for his mom, dad, his sister, Anna, and his brother, Michael.

They always came first. Always.

But Kenny saved one prayer for last.  The one where he would look at his special toy Vikings’ helmet and pray that one day he could play football for the Minnesota Vikings.

The Vikings were his favorite team.  He knew everything about them.

Kenny could tell you about the Purple People Eaters, Carl Eller, Jim Marshall and Alan Page.  He knew where every Minnesota Viking attended college.  Kenny could recite the statistics of each player from tight end Bob Tucker to quarterback Fran Tarkenton to linebacker Chris Doleman to running back, Chuck Foreman.

“Kenny, what do you always pray for at night?’’ Anna asked.

“I pray for a lot of things,’’ he admitted.  “But you know what my dream is Sis?  One day I’m going to walk on that football field in Minnesota and be on the sidelines and you’ll see me on television, too.’’

“I know you will Kenny.  I know you will,’’ Anna said.

At ten years old, Kenny would always run home from school and be the first one to finish his homework.  He never wasted any time.  Kenny’s best subjects were mathematics and science.

He amazed his sister at how quick he was at the flash cards.  Multiplication or division, it didn’t matter.  Kenny never made a mistake.

“Can you teach me how to multiply and divide like you?’’ Anna inquired one day after she completed her homework.

“Sure, Sis, and how about this; why don’t we throw the football around outside while it’s still light out and then come in and work the flash cards?’’

“That would be great Kenny.  Let’s go play.’’

With that invitation, the duo would play catch in their spacious backyard for hours.  Anna would run pass patterns and Kenny would throw perfect spirals into her waiting arms.

“Great catch, Sis,’’ Kenny said as he always included Anna in every game he would play.

He never left her out.  Never.

If he played with his toy soldiers, Anna would be the general.

They would recreate wars and use tanks.  Kenny wanted the battle scene to be completely authentic so he would have Anna light matches to blow things up once in a while, as long as Mrs. Solomon wasn’t watching.

“Awesome job, Sis.  You knocked out the German’s 11^th infantry with that bomb,’’ Kenny laughed as Anna always enjoyed her time with him no matter what the activity.

When the winter wars were over, Kenny took Anna with him wherever he went, especially in the summertime.  They would play sports with the neighborhood kids on Clear Brook Road.

Orange, Connecticut served the Solomons well.  The houses weren’t too far apart and there were plenty of lots covered with green grass to play baseball.

Kenny’s friends were numerous and since Anna could play any sport well, they welcomed her with open arms.

“I want Anna on my team,’’ Billy would always yell.

“Nope, Sis, plays shortstop on my team,’’ Kenny instructed.

Anna was a winner.  She would always find ways to win the games and Kenny’s friends would complain how it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t on their team.

“It’s not my fault you guys can’t get her out,’’ Kenny informed the losing team.  “Sissy is determined.  She’s not going to let you guys beat her at any sport.’’

Anna would always smile the brightest smile when her brother spoke about her.  She always made sure she brought her “A” game whenever Kenny was around.

“Thanks for letting me play on your team,’’ Anna said.
“Thanks?  Thanks for what, Sis.  You can play. Period.  I always want you on my team.  I want to win too, you know,’’ Kenny said as they walked home for dinner.

“Are you coming to my game tonight at Old Tavern Road, Sis?’’

“Sure. I love coming to your Little League games.  But let’s make a deal,” Anna insisted.  “After the game, you show me how your telescope works.  I want to see the stars tonight.’’

Kenny’s games were family affairs.  Mr. Solomon would leave his second job early while Mrs. Solomon toted Anna, Kenny and Michael in the family car to the baseball diamond.

“Ma, hurry, hurry, I can’t be late,’’ Kenny pleaded because punctuality meant so much to him.  “I can’t let my teammates down.  I have to be there on time.’’

“Don’t worry, Kenneth Jr.,” Mrs. Solomon sternly told him.  “I’ll always take care of you, always.’’

The joyous ride home two hours later was filled with laughter and praise.

“Kenny, what a game,’’ Anna said.  “You made all the plays and then in the bottom of the sixth, you won the game with that great hit.’’

“It’s nothing, Sis.  I just like playing baseball, but when we get home we are going to look into the telescope tonight and I’ll show you something really amazing.’’

“I can’t wait, Kenny.  I can’t wait.’’

The stars were brilliant that warm July evening in the cloudless dark blue sky.  You could hear the rhythmic sound of crickets chirping.  The night was perfect for stargazing.

“There’s the Little Dipper and see the North Star, Sis?  That’s the really cool one,’’ Kenny said.  “But now I want to show you something extra special to the west of the full moon.’’

“What’s that?’’

“It’s the star I pray to every night.  This is the special star that tells me I’m going to play football for the Minnesota Vikings.’’

“Can I see it, Kenny?  Can I see it?’’

“Sure you can, Sis, but remember; you have to believe that your most genuine wishes will always come true.’’

“Are you ready?’’

“Of course I am, Kenny, now just show me the star.’’

Kenny aimed the most powerful of powerful telescopes.  He would kid his relatives and friends by saying that his telescope could find Pluto on clear days.

By no means were the Solomons spoiled.  They appreciated everything they had.  Kenny’s and Michael’s room was immaculate.  Everything in the room owned a special place.  Sometimes Anna would go in their room when Kenny wasn’t around and move a glove, a bat or a model car he built an inch and he would know it right away.

 Mr. and Mrs. Solomon worked and scrimped and saved so their children would have the best of everything.

They always wore the best clothes.  The Solomons played with the best baseball gloves.  And if any of the children needed to sharpen their skills, Mr. Solomon enrolled them in the best sports camp.

But when it came to school, Mr. and Mrs. Solomon really extended themselves.  They made sure Kenny owned his own corner of the basement where he would conduct science experiments and build models.

Rarely would Kenny watch television.  When he wasn’t experimenting or building or graphing designs he entered his own world with the telescope.

“Now, Sis, look to the left of the moon.  Do you see anything that resembles something in my room?’’

“What am I looking for?’’ Anna asked.

“Look around the room and think,’’ Kenny implored.  “I know you’ll get it.’’

Finally, Anna pointed at the Vikings’ helmet his mom and dad gave him for Christmas several years ago.

“That’s it, isn’t it, Kenny?’’

“It sure is.  Now try to see if you can find it in the stars.  It’s a little bit to the left of the moon.’’

Anna searched and searched and looked again.

“I can’t find it, Kenny.’’

“It’s there, Sis, as long as you believe.’’

“Where is it?  Point the telescope to it and stop fooling around.’’

“It’s there, Sis.  I know you will find it, just keep looking.’’

“Kids, let’s go, it’s time for bed,’’ Mrs. Solomon instructed.  “Anna now get to your room and let your brothers sleep.  You are always in here jumping on their beds and making a mess.’’

Behind Mrs. Solomon’s back Kenny and Michael playfully shake their heads at Anna.

“But Ma, Kenny’s showing me a special star with the Vikings’ helmet,’’ Anna pleads.  “I have to find it.’’

“You can look another day, but now you are going to sleep, young lady.’’

Anna bows her head and trudges along to her room down the hall.

She prays, looks out the window and even without the telescope, she tries to spot the star, but she tires and falls asleep.

Many days and nights pass.  Baseball season’s ended and Kenny’s team, the California Angels, despite another 300-plus strikeout year from Nolan Ryan, fail to make the playoffs.

Football season passed as well and Coach Denny Green’s Minnesota Vikings make the playoffs, but lost in the first round to the San Francisco 49ers and the rifle arm of quarterback, Joe Montana.

During the cold Connecticut winter months, Kenny follows the Buffalo Sabres with Gil Perrault and the dominator, goalie Dominick Hasek.

And while these days blast by with amazing speed, Kenny tries to show Anna the star on every clear night.

“Kenny, when am I going to find the helmet?’’ Anna asks while time and time again Kenny’s response is simple.

“It’s there, Sis, as long as you believe.’’

The next morning, Kenny awakes and he tells Anna about his terrible headache.

“My head is pounding, Sis, and it won’t go away.’’

“Go tell Ma and maybe she can give you some aspirin so you could feel better.’’

Kenny agrees and tells Anna that these headaches have been happening on and off for more than three months.

“What is the matter with you, Kenny?  You have to tell Ma so she can take you to the doctor,’’ Anna implores.

“I don’t want to bother Ma with all this.  She’s working hard around the house and Dad’s working two jobs.  These headaches will go away, I’m sure of it.’’

A week later the headaches become so painful Kenny finally tells Mrs. Solomon.  Doctors from many parts of New England venture to Connecticut, but none of them can tell anyone why Kenny’s headaches won’t go away.

“He’s probably not getting enough sleep,’’ one physician analyzed.  “Is he watching too much television?’’

“My son doesn’t watch television except on Sunday nights when our family sits down for Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom,’’ Mrs. Solomon replies.  “He is always busy with models or science experiments.’’

More doctors come to see the CAT scans and test results, but Kenny presses forward as though the headaches were never there.  However, Anna senses that something is seriously wrong with her brother.

“Kenny, how come you never tell anybody how bad these headaches really are?’’ she asked.

“How do you know that they are so bad?’’

Anna then tells Kenny how she noticed that he wasn’t playing his favorite football game anymore.  Before the headaches came, Kenny would spend hours with his electric football game where the players would aimlessly move along the field.

Kenny painted one team purple and gold, just like the Vikings.  He would keep statistics, standings and play for hours every morning.

“You’re right, Sis, sometimes my head hurts so much the electric buzzing bothers me and I can’t take it anymore.’’

With this information, Anna runs to her mother and pleads with her to take Kenny to another doctor to cure these headaches.

One day after Kenny’s 12^th birthday, Mrs. Solomon drove him to another doctor for more tests and X-rays, yet still there is no answer.

While doctors continue to search for clues to cure Kenny’s headaches, Anna looked in the telescope every clear night.  However, she stopped searching for the Vikings’ helmet.  Now she prayed to God and the stars above to ease her brother’s pain.

Two months later, a doctor contacted Mr. and Mrs. Solomon with terrible news.

“The latest series of tests reveal a rare tumor in your son’s brain,’’ the doctor said.  “The tumor is inoperable.  Your son doesn’t have much time to live.’’

The Solomons are devastated by the news.

“How much time does he have left?’’ a tearful Mrs. Solomon asked.

“We don’t know.  We have never dealt with this kind of tumor before.  It could be three months, it could be two years.  All we could do is hope for the best.’’

This news drives Mrs. Solomon into instant action.

She works the phones endlessly.  She calls everyone looking for answers to her son’s fate.  But she remembers her son’s dream – to be a Minnesota Viking.

One crisp, cold November evening, the telephone rang.

“Hello. Is Kenny Solomon there?’’

“Sure.  I’ll go get him.  He’s building some models downstairs,’’ Anna said.

Slowly, Kenny fights his way up the stairs and Anna hands him the phone.

“It sounds like somebody important,’’ she tells him.

“Hello. Is this Kenny Solomon?’’

“Yes it is.  Who’s this?”

“It’s Tony Dungy from the Minnesota Vikings.’’

“This must be some kind of joke.  You’re not really Tony Dungy are you?’’

“Yes, I am Kenny.  How are you doing?  I hope you’re feeling better because I’m calling to invite you to be a part of the Minnesota Vikings’ game with the Chicago Bears on Monday Night Football next week. Will you come?’’

“Are you serious?  I’m going to a Minnesota Vikings’ game and I’m going to be on the sideline.  This can’t be possible.’’

“It sure is, Kenny.  Can you make it next Monday?’’

“Sure, but can I ask you one question?’’

“Go ahead,’’ said the former National Football League All-Star defensive back, now turned coach.

“Can I bring my best friend Billy and my sister?’’

“Of course you can.  May I speak with your mother now?  See you next week, Kenny.’’

“See you next week, Coach Dungy.’’

A smiling Mrs. Solomon grabbed the phone, profusely thanked Coach Dungy and wrote the necessary information.  Coach Dungy, the Vikings’ defensive coordinator, made arrangements for Kenny to be a part of the pre-game meal and prayer.  Kenny, Anna and Billy held sideline passes for the game as well.

Kenny was speechless.   Anna was crying.

Anna raced to Kenny’s room, seized the telescope and looked into the stars for the Vikings’ helmet.

She can’t find it.

A few days later, the Solomons and Billy flew to Minneapolis for the game in the Metrodome.  Kenny, Anna and Billy ate dinner with the team, enjoyed the festivities of Monday Night Football and flew home the next morning.

“Ma, that was great, but how did Coach Dungy know I wasn’t feeling too well?’’

“I don’t know.  I think some little bird in the sky wrote him a letter,’’ Mrs. Solomon jokes.  “Maybe that or I think your prayers are working.’’

Anna was not happy.  Her prayers were not working.  Kenny’s headaches weren’t going away and the trip didn’t happen because some magical bird knew how to type.

“Kenny, when we get home tonight can you show me again where the helmet is in the sky?’’

“As long as the night’s sky is clear, we should find it after all this, Sis.’’

“I can’t wait, Kenny.  I really can’t wait.’’

Night arrives, but dark, heavy clouds quickly roll in and prevent Kenny from showing Anna the Vikings’ helmet.

The next morning, Anna rushes into Kenny’s room only to find him holding his toy Minnesota Vikings’ helmet in his arms and sleeping.

Kenny never woke up again.

“Hey, Ma,’’ Paul and Westly shout.  “The sky is really clear tonight.  We want to look at the stars.  Can you show us where you see Uncle Kenny’s helmet?’’

“Sure, let’s go to Paulie’s room and use Uncle Kenny’s telescope we got from Grandma’s house.’’

“Ma, I think that tonight it’s going to be clear enough so we can see the Vikings’ helmet you always talk about.  We’ve been looking for months and we can’t find it.  You have to try your best to show us, Ma.  Please.’’

“Okay, okay.  I’ll show you guys. But you have to look extremely carefully.  The helmet is a little to the West of the full moon.’’

“I can’t see it Mom.  I can’t see it.’’

“Do you believe that if you say your prayers and are nice to people that all of your dreams will come true, Paul and Westly?’’

“We do, Ma.  We do,’’ the boys simultaneously exclaim.

“Where’s the helmet, Ma?  Where’s the helmet, Ma?’’

“It’s there, Paul and Westly,’’ Anna says.

“It’s there as long as you believe.’’