Log0017

Gary

I didn’t know too much about Gary, but I wanted to.

I knew he worked part time on the grounds at the local university and part time doing yard work for the congressman’s wife.  But there was more to it than that. A lot more to it. 

A great character with an incredible smile and an even more infectious laugh, he was himself – genuine and undeniably Texan. He had a big burly figure and while he was aging past his prime, I could tell he still carried a lot of strength in his hands. An honest worker and an honest man he had nothing to prove to anyone. A refreshing trait, content and satisfied. 

I was curious what Gary had done through the years, what other jobs he had in this small and quiet city, placed in the vast Texas plains. I was also curious how he had seen the city change. An interesting place in its own right. This once great bastion of wealth, now with a dwindling economy and a stagnant population that hasn’t grown at all since the early 60s. What was his experience of its evolution? The large mansions that have laid unoccupied for years, now boarded up and broken. What was it like when these held families? What was the town center like when all the storefronts had vendors? Instead, now vacant and ever seeking tenants. 

But in truth, I was not certain that old Gary was even born here. Sure, here he had a wife and kids, kids that had grown up and moved out, but of his backstory I really knew nothing. Our few encounters were always fleeting, never long enough to share stories and hear tales. 

In thinking this, I promised myself to slow down next time – take a ride with him, step out in the midafternoon sun and share the work. To be quiet myself and openly listen. 

I know how cheap talk is though. And from the other side of the country, from the other side of the continent, the other side of the world. I don’t know the next time I will return to the Lonestar State and its quiet aging city laid out on the plains. I don’t know that there will be a longer conversation, or another fleeting encounter. All I really know is that you’re best placed to learn the stories when they’re right there in front of you. Not months or years later, when you pick up a pencil to sketch out an old face you vaguely remember.  

Gary, an ever honest and humble character I intend to cross paths with again.