Lately I've been reflecting about the things that have stuck in my mind for decades. Here's a small gesture that made a huge impression:
When I was 16 years old we left Southern California (Christmas 1969) to "head east until we find someplace we like". (That was about as detailed as my Mom's plans ever got.) The car broke down in Tyler, Texas, which as about as far from "someplace we like" as your can get, but we were stuck there.
By then we had been moving every 3 or 4 months for a couple of years, and "John Tyler" was my 5th high school. And (to add injury to insult) 2 weeks after we got there some redneck (Donald Stringer?) kicked the snot out of me at school because apparently the length of my hair did not meet his approval... Yeah - (to quote Marcellus Wallace) I was pretty f****** far from OK.
We lived in an apartment complex in Tyler (Hollandale Terrace) and the manager had a very pretty 19 year old daughter (Joanne Spano?). One evening I, my older sister and Joanne and their respective boyfriends (Val Struve and Hans Vercruysse?) were hanging out and decided to go for a walk. So, off we went, my sister and Val holding hands, Joanne and Hans holding hands, and me (the little bro) just tagging along .
Then Joanne (apparently concerned that I was feeling left out) stopped, reached out her free hand and took hold of mine.
We walked the rest of the way with me holding her right hand and Hans (who was rather annoyed) her left. I remember that her hand was soft and slender and delicate, her smile was sweet and warm, and I was taken aback by what an amazingly thoughtful gesture it was. It was pure, unselfish kindness and in 40 years I've never forgotten it.
If there's a point to this, it's that a small thoughtful gesture can have a surprising big impact...
(While I'm thinking about that particular time period - the girl next to me in English class in Tyler - Marsha Chaney - was unfailingly nice to me no matter how big of a jerk I was. I really appreciated that. It almost made that class tolerable...)
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