An Officer and A Gentleman.....and A Realtor

It's Veterans Day weekend.  I am out this Friday morning placing signage on a property.  A lovely older gentleman with a soft spoken manner, a visible hearing aid, and perhaps the deepest eyes I've ever seen walks up from a nearby home.  He asks about my listing.  He asks if I am a "realtOR," as he says, "not just a realtor."   I assure him that I am indeed a "realtOR." He says he is a veteran.  He served in Viet Nam.  I thank him for his service and give him my card.  He says he may one day soon be in need of real estate assistance.  I tell him I would be very pleased and honored to help him.

He shares that his mother (at least I think he said mother, but in hindsight, perhaps he said wife) suffers from Alzheimers.  He says she went out of their home during the night, turned on their car and apparently left it on all night.  He has been trying without success to reach someone to help.  He comments that he has cables.  I ask if he would like to try to jump his car off from mine.  (Note that I remembered a lesson  learned from a car trouble experience of my own when in my mid twenties I caused quite a stir by asking if any of a group of young guys could jump me.  Clear communication can be a wonderful thing, can it not?)

The charming, distinguished veteran asks if I'm sure I have time and don't mind helping.  I assure him I have time to help.  He hooks up the cables and a few minutes later we hear the welcome sound of his engine turning over.

He shakes my hand and thanks me profusely.  Really....he thanks me?  He says, "God sent you my way this morning, Young Lady."  That may have been the best part...being called "young lady" after my recent birthday, but I digress.  I think maybe God did send me, but not in the way this gentleman meant.  Thank you, Lord, for giving me a Veteran's Day opportunity to interact with one who proudly served this nation, and to maybe in a very small way lend him a grateful hand.

                                                   

In the Spirit of Spring Cleaning, Or Not....

I opted out of the shower I probably needed in the wee hours of January 10.  And after what seemed only minutes of rest...definitely not sleep....I again elected not to shower before Drew and I began our long drive home.  I just couldn't yet wash it away.... the sights, smells, sounds, and feelings of a National Championship.  I still today close my eyes, and I'm back....back to the smells of highway fumes from a procession of tens of thousands of Tiger fans rolling toward Tampa where orange would paint the town..... back to the group of Tiger Lettermen of the late 80's and early 90's and their families who allowed Drew and me to share their experience.....back to the smell of chlorine as our fearless kids would not be denied a dip in the pool...even in the unusually chilly 40 - 50 degree Florida weather..... back to the unmistakable and pervasive odor of pot wafting toward starlit skies at the Usher concert and the chill sounds of an amazingly soulful performance by Gavin McGraw.... back to the unmistakable aromas of fried chicken and beer at a tailgate that for all intents and purposes looked (and smelled) like a Clemson home game... back to a stadium crowd owned by those wearing orange and smelling of hot pretzels and pizza and, yes again beer... back to the frenetic amped up passion for a beloved team in anticipation of what might lie ahead...

I had worried about bad omens as my superstitions sometimes get the best of me.  I forgot my trusty Original Tiger Rag, the one that had with me made so many huge games over the years, the one I saved from Clemson's first Natty in '81.  I also forgot to pack my mom's orange walking coat, a wardrobe staple for me for cool weather games...partly because it's one of the few pieces of orange clothing I actually have, but mostly because I know how much Mother would have loved these games.  I worried yet again when an early January snowfall in the Southeast twice cancelled my sister Di's flight into Tampa.  She barely made the game.  I knew we couldn't do it without her, just as we couldn't quite do it last year without my little sis Donna who had to miss that amazing game of "almost."

David Hood, Clemson Sportswriter noted that during pregame, Tiger staffers on the field were singing the Back Eyed Peas classic, "I've got a feeling....that tonight's gonna be a good night!"  Raymond James stadium speakers blared the same tune just before the game got under way.

It was fittingly appropriate that in the end Clemson's remarkable offense led by a true star, a star in both talent and character yet somehow shunned by Heisman voters would not be denied his championship.....appropriate that in the game's final minutes two stunning drives into the heart of Bama's vaunted defense were directly into the "Clemson end" of a stadium where Tiger band and Tiger fans were totally coming unglued... especially appropriate that the winning play was a pass thrown by a collegiate icon who had been if not THE then certainly one of the faces of college football these past two years to a baby faced Myrtle Beach walk-on who toiled away to even earn a scholarship.

Yes, I've finally showered, and I'm pretty sure Drew has.  But washing away our memories...the smells, sights, sounds, feelings of  the year and the game that was...that's another matter altogether.  I hope, especially for my son, they outlast a lifetime of showers.