A Tribute to Mr. Twinkie

At my elementary school, I remember every once in a while an older gentleman, with white hair and cold hands, would come into our classroom. We would all cheer for the Twinkie Man as he would come around and pinch each of our noses softly, with his cold hands. He was like a grandfather to us, and I don't remember ever hearing him talk. He would simply smile as we would call for him to come plug our noses and move around the room of cheering fourth-graders. I think we loved him. I always thought he was a janitor, but I never saw him other than when he would sporadically come into class. I never thought to ask why we called him the Twinkie Man, or what his real name was. I guess I just assumed getting your nose "pinched" was somehow called a twinkie. For our competition today, my elementary school class bought t-shirts we had designed, which read "In memory of the Twinkie Man." I thought it was a shout-out to our childhood remembrances, but one of our captains said today that they think the Twinkie Man passed away. He was a lovely part of my elementary school experience and a grandfather near by, just quiet with nice, cold hands.