INFLUENCE
He was a slightly disheveled man probably in
his early 30’s, just sitting on a park bench watching the people as they came
by.
All kinds of people passed by him and very
few paid him any attention. Some would glance his way, and then quickly turn
their head back as they passed. A few waved and a couple even nodded at him,
but he was very careful not to show any sign of emotion because it seemed he
had no desire to get engaged in some type of conversation.
I watched from a safe distance across the
plaza and wondered what his story was, and it could be one of many. I had seen
him in the park on a couple of occasions in the past. I had taken up walking
around the park just because I did not want to stay at home in a big old empty
home by myself.
He never engaged anyone in conversation; in
fact it was almost like he actively avoided any type of sociality.
The weather was cold the first time I had
seen him, but he had an old jacket around his shoulders and a lap blanket covering
his legs and feet. And as usual, as I did every time I saw him I wondered what
kind of story he might have to tell.
He wore a full beard that was well trimmed and
he also had what seemed to be his favorite possession, a Sempr-Fi baseball hat
that was well worn.
My conclusion was that he probably was a
Veteran and did not really want any company. If he had problems and demons he
probably wanted to deal with them by himself.
Then one day I was sitting on my bench
across the plaza, and he gingerly walked to his bench and sat down. As I
somewhat suspected, he had a prosthetic foot, which he tucked very carefully in
front of him and covered it with his lap blanket.
So now I knew at least another part of his
story. Each time I saw him after that I would nod to him or just say Hi as I
went by. After a couple of times, I said hi and he looked at me and said, “I
really do not want to visit, OK?”Of course it was OK! I did not want to bother
him. I was just lonely like he was, but obviously he could choose if he wanted
company or not.
After this conversation, if you could call
it that, whenever I saw him, he would nod, and I would nod back, as I passed
and I suppose that was our conversation for the day.
After several weeks I had moved to a bench
closer to him but our relationship did not change. We would nod to each other
as if it was the most normal way there was to acknowledge each other.
Then one day a strange thing happened. A
young mother with a boy about eight or nine years old came and sat on a bench
just a short way from the man. The boy had a soccer ball and he kept bouncing
it and his Mom kept telling him to quit. Of course with a boy and a ball that
is not going to happen. Of course the ball finally got away and slowly rolled
toward my “friend” on the bench. The boy ran after it and stopped it and picked
it up right in front of my presumed Veteran.
As the boy picked up the ball he looked
right at the man and said, “How come you only got one foot?” I thought to
myself, “Oh NO, now what is going to happen?” The man looked at the boy and
said, “I don’t want to talk about it OK?” However with a young boys innocence,
the boy just said it was OK because,”My Dad did not want to talk about his
either.” At that point he said to the man, “I guess you got in an accident like
my Dad did huh?”
At that point the mother came yelling and intervened,
all the while reading the riot act to the young boy, whose name was Tucker, and
apologizing profusely to the man all at the same time. The Vet just sat on the
bench, but finally said, it is OK Ma’am he is just curious!” She apologized
profusely again and started walking toward her bench, with Tucker’s ball securely
tucked under her arm.
Just as the lady and her son sat down, the
Vet hollered and said, “Tucker, are you a good soccer player?” Tucker called
back and said, “No I stink, my Dad was always going to help me but we never made
it before he died.” Then as if on second thought, “Tucker said, ”could you
teach me?” At that point a loud bursting yell came from the mother, “Now “Tucker,
you just stop it and leave that man alone.”
The man, “Jerry”, I found out later told the
mother it was OK. I can still walk and it might keep me busy. Then Tucker told
him he had a friend named Isiah who liked soccer, but was even worse at it than
Tucker was, and did Jerry think he could learn also?
The
Mom “Nancy” made an appointment to meet Jerry at the park. He told her that he
used to be a coach, but I don’t know how good I will be now, but I think it is
time I gave it a try.
Well of course as time went on, Jerry found
out he could still remember all the drills, kicks and tricks, even though he
was a little clumsy. He was able to teach Tucker and Isiah a lot about soccer.
And of course Nancy provided a picnic lunch for every practice session.
And believe it or not Jerry even recruited
me to try and kick the ball past Tucker and Isiah. Of course I could not do it
but I enjoyed every minute that they asked me to try.
As time went on Tucker and Isiah were no
longer the “scrubs” on the league teams, they were the players everyone wanted
on their team.
It is almost impossible to imagine what can
happen through the innocence of children and the love of people for other
people.
Of course I can end my Blog anyway I choose,
but this one had a wonderful conclusion with my receiving two special letters
in the next two years. One was to invite me to the wedding of Jerry and Nancy
Hunt and another to inform me that Tucker and Isiah’s team took second place in
the valley wide soccer league, thanks to their new Dad and friend, Jerry Hunt.
W.R. Baldwin
April 2016
