Bird Droppings May 1, 2018
Pondering, remembering and digesting the stories
Forty five years ago I was a student at Mercer University in Macon Georgia. I had moved south only a few months before from Pennsylvania. Macon was new to me and I will admit I was a bit naive at the time. In the student center those of us who lived off campus was a place we could go grab some food and study between classes and socialize. I recall the day I met Trooper. Never one to be quiet and demure he demanded attention. You knew when he was around. Back then his typical outfit was a pair of ragged cutoff jeans and t-shirt thinking back that was just about year around.
I was working in a center of special needs children and adults and out of the blue this character shows up to volunteer. I see another side of this larger than life fellow from Mercer Campus. At that time he was not a student but would audit courses he liked. He worked for a band promoter as a bouncer of sorts keeping the guys in the bands in line. Needless to say we became good friends.
As I think back it’s the stories of all those years. Boys Club camping trips to North Carolina, a rustic cabin in Dahlonega, trips to Albany Georgia, meeting the sales rep for an archery company and a good one my wedding and him pulling a big Buck knife out to carve some frozen grapes from a table display.
Good stories, great stories and several sad stories all intermingle as I think back. A few days ago his daughter informed me he had been hospitalized. Yesterday great news he may be getting out of CCU and going to a regular room. Then a short time later he had suffered a massive heart attack and they could not revive him. I sat thinking of all the stories. Last night I thought back I was upset I had not traveled to visit him in so many years there was always a reason. We both had kept in near daily communication through social media arguing politics and remembering our stories.
Time is often an enemy as we grow older. Our bodies are in a daily fight with us. You can do this but not that today. I was reminded a few days back about stories my father would tell. I need to get them down. Now another group of stories need to be put on paper so they can be retold. It is our stories that give us life.
I wish my friend well in his new journey.
My family and friends I do not say this lightly,
(We are all related)