The Best Award I Never Got to Accept.

It was one of those surreal moments you only see in movies.

“Mel Lindstrom”

“Mel Lindstrom !”

” Is Mel Lindstrom here?”

Friends of mine, who knew I was at the event, started shouting from across the room: “Mel’s here! Get him up to the podium!. The only problem? I wasn’t in the room—I couldn’t be.

The ADDY Awards, sponsored by the American Advertising Federation, are a big deal in our industry. You start at the local level, where you need to win either a Silver or Gold to move on to District. From there, it’s Regional, and if you’re lucky (and good), you might just make it to Nationals.

But there’s one honor that stands above even the Gold. It’s rare, not awarded in every category, and it’s simply called the ADDY. This award is given only when a piece of work completely transcends expectations—when it sets a new standard for creative excellence.

Over the years, I had been fortunate to earn a fair share of local and district Golds and Silvers. But I’d never made it to the national stage—until that year.

The national ADDYs were being held in San Diego, and the room was buzzing with talent. Every major ad agency from across the country was there. It was the perfect place to network, make an impression, and show off what I could do.

Now, like the Oscars, the ADDY organizers tell you that you’ve won something, but they won’t tell you what. The suspense keeps attendance high—and the anxiety even higher.

So there I was, sitting nervously in the audience, heart pounding, waiting to hear my name. The awards were being announced one by one. I was hoping for Gold. But I had to keep my patience.

Then… nature called.

Yes, I left my seat and dashed to the restroom, just for a minute. And wouldn’t you know it? That’s when it happened. While I was completely unaware, my name was called. Multiple times. Loudly. Clearly. To a packed room.  And I missed it.

When I returned to my seat, no one said a word. I figured, “Well, maybe I got a Bronze or Honorable Mention—no biggie.” I stayed through the rest of the ceremony, quietly disappointed.

It wasn’t until the after-party that I found out the truth: I had won the top honor. The ADDY.

As others proudly shared what they had won, I stood on the sidelines, unsure what to say. But then, I started introducing myself. And every time, I got the same wide-eyed reaction:

“Wait… YOU’RE Mel Lindstrom?!”

It was magic. Anyone who was at the awards show, heard my name. Multiple times.

In that moment, I didn’t need a podium. Everyone in the room knew who I was. Everyone knew my work. And suddenly, everyone accepted my business card and meetings were scheduled. Doors opened.

It turned out to be the best thing that never happened to me. And the beginning of everything that came after.

What more could I ask for?