They were emblematic of the times, those park benches. Carefully placed among the trees in front of the courthouse, some aligning with the concrete walkway leading up to the front doors.
Come mid-morning, they would begin to arrive, those "old timers." Taking what appeared to be their "favorite bench in their favorite place', as if it were assigned seating. They had been gathering for a long time, many on a first name basis with lawyers, judges, clerks, peace officers.
Most were veterans of the military, serving in World War II, and Korea. One was a veteran of World War I, which history called "The Great War." One had served with the French Foreign Legion, another a constable in the Yukon Territory of Canada. They were mesmerizing with their endless library of stories.
Several years ago, in a newspaper column, I read this quote, origin unknown: "When an elderly person dies, a history book is lost." That could not be more true. My wife, Karen, for several years worked at at a retirement facility. She would often, and intentionally, begin a conversation with the residents to get them talking about their experiences. She described how their eyes would "light up" when they would begin recalling events in their lives, people they had known, or related to, places where they had been, etc. All because someone
showed an interest -
in them.
Do I need to say more?
copyright: richard riddle March 04, 2015