We were camped on Holly Beach, Louisiana in January, the January prior to the August of Katrina and eighteen months before Rita. We were packed and ready to depart on the following morning after a wonderful week of appreciation for the sun, the sand, the soughing of the wind and the roar of the surf. We would participate in the pitch-in dinner on the final evening, and say our farewells.
The young man in the sharply creased chinos and the snap-front crisp white western-cut shirt strode into the room on intricately detailed shiny black boots with his wife, and the manager of the campground. Rex and Jeannie were introduced to the group as the newest members of the camp community.
I had seen the couple arrive about an hour earlier and noted that the red Ram pickup towing the fifth-wheel RV had the white-on-black license plate with bronco: Wyoming.
After a filling, if eclectic, repast, I made it a point to speak with Rex. "I see you are from Wyoming. I was born and reared in Colorado. Makes us sort of neighbors, I guess."
"Interesting. I was born in Colorado, too. Where were you born?"
"Oh, a little town no one ever heard of."
"Try me."
"I was born in Hartman."
"Really? Hartman. I know it well. My grandmother lives there. We just visited her last summer."
Small world, indeed.
5 comments:
It always pays to be friendly to people because then you can find out gems of information about them just like that~
While researching for my novel, I discovered many interesting facts about Hartman. The town is a shambles, but the cemetery is still quite nicely kept - maybe because it is the most populated area of the town. The only towns still thriving in that area are the ones along the river.
Shelly, people are interesting, and while people-watching is great sport, talking with them is even better.
Vee, from my childhood experiences, I always thought of Hartman as a somnolent little town of a few hundred people. I was surprised to learn that at one time its population was in the thousands. I have seen it in its current condition, perhaps one house in three occupied, possibly by squatters, and downtown buildings caved in and crumbling. I guess everything has its day.
You never know who is going to turn out to be someone you know. I got a little annoyed with the boss at work last week and said something, not awful, but less than ideal. There was a new kid working that night. Guess who turns up in the Bible study I'm attending on Mondays. The new kid, of course.
Sharkey, Oops! I suspect we all have had similar experiences.
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