In this town, my father is well known. Anyone over thirty that has lived in this town for the least ten years knows my father. He spent the better part of sixty years in this town. When I run into people in the grocery store or on the side of the road, they turn to whoever they are with and say 'This is Everett's youngest.'
After graduating he worked for a local bar and sold brushes door to door. Then he worked for the post office for thirty-five years, twenty of which he was a postal carrier. He would always find time to talk about the day with anyone that said hi. He would hum songs and sing the choruses.
Whenever we go to the store at least three people would stop and say 'Hey Everett' He would talk to them for hours, ask them how there kids were, ask them if they still lived at such and such. I remember looking at him and going, 'Dad they said your name but you never said theirs.' To me he would admit that he had no idea what there name was, he knew where they lived because he delivered their mail, he knew they had kids because it was all they talked about.
My father is held in the memories of hundreds, as a good man that always had the time to talk.
-NK
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2 comments:
'Had' or 'has' in the last sentence? Makes a difference in the emotional reaction to the piece.
Funny what he does and doesn't remember--that's what the piece hangs on and any emphasis that's given (his expression when you bust him, the actual dialogue between you two, and so on) would strengthen the portrait.
He is still alive, but it is had, because he does not go out much anymore.
I did not think to put in how he reacted, he was always relaxed about it. I am the same way, names are near impossible for me to remember. And most people know my name because of my nametag at work, they are not wearing a nametag so I dont get there names.
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