Storytime
I’ve always loved a good story. That’s why when the old man sitting at the table next to me at Ukrop’s leaned over today and said:
“Young man, do you enjoy history?” I instantly knew that some good stories were about to follow. We spent the next hour talking Richmond lore, from the little known fact that there are Yankee soldiers buried in Confederate uniforms underneath the 3 crosses at the corner of Glenside and Horspen, to the fact that these two houses on Elwood are completely identical, due to the fact that the father of twin sisters had to marry them off and they each wanted houses just like the other. He spoke sweetly of his late wife, until he got to the part of catching her in bed with his lawyer. “That’s when it all went downhill.” She proceeded to smoke herself to death, and last he heard, his disbarred lawyer had also gone on to “meet his maker.”
He continued his storytelling as I enjoyed my sushi, all the while not caring if he was in any way embellishing any part of these stories. I immediately drove over to glenside, and sure enough, the three crosses stand there without any markers. I drove to Carytown, and there are the two houses, a perfect mirror image of each other. I’m not sure who got more out of our short time together, an old man finding a willing ear, or me.
I told the wife about my experience, and I could sense a small amount of jealousy in her voice.
How do these things keep happening to you?
I’m not sure. I’ve been going through this whole I’m getting older stage lately. Feeling nostalgic, sentimental, wanting to soak up all the things that are going on around me. Even one of my coworkers warned me that I’m acting like a little girl. I’m carrying my camera everywhere I go, snapping pictures everywhere. Maybe God is just being nice to me. I’m not sure, but I loved having this little experience today.
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