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The bottom of the pile

It is hard to walk away when you are at the bottom of the pile.

I remember fondly the springs and summers. Hours of play after completing my chores around the house. Of course, as I got older, I took on odd jobs like mowing neighbor’s yards to earn a little money.

In my neighborhood, we had a great group of children. We all would gather to play and race our bikes down suicide hill.

I remember one accident that sent me flying through the handlebars and sliding down the pavement for 20 feet or more. That still hurts just thinking about it. I had sores all over me from that adventure.

There were no cell phones — so the kids were kept on what I call time leashes. When we left the house, we were expected to come back by a certain time, usually mealtime.

Of course, if any of us got into mischief, the news traveled faster than us and the punishment was waiting for us when we got home. In my case, a few choice words from Mom followed by “You just wait ‘til your father gets home.”

Those waits coupled with the sound of my dad pulling his belt out of his pants were always worse than the whipping themselves.

One thing about it, my father never punished me undeservingly, and while I can’t remember a single whipping, I sure learned the life lessons that accompanied them.

My friends and I had about a two to three-mile radius in which we played that encompassed, fields, woods, several neighborhoods and some stores. We had a Colonial Grocery Store, a Krystal, a gas station, dry cleaners and a Gulf Service Station within our travel patterns.

We would get in our share of disagreements with each other. That would lead usually to some hurt feelings and some rolling around on the ground ‘til someone would say “Uncle.” We always seemed to come through it. There really were no children who caused trouble in my age bracket. A few older ones sometimes got into mischief, but we always managed to keep out of trouble.

Do not get me wrong, there were bullies. We were just blessed not to have them on our street, at least for very long. I remember when I was about seven there were two brothers who took great pleasure in picking fights with me. At least, it seemed that way at the time.

A boy my age named Chris Sands moved in. His parents had just divorced, and at that time, it was not as usual, as it is now. I’ll never forget one meeting with those brothers that had me at the bottom of a wrestling match that I just could not win. Chris was the new guy in the neighborhood and saw that I was being unfairly targeted for this fight and stepped in to pull the other boys off me. From that moment on, he was my friend — that is until he later moved away, and I lost track of him.

While time has erased many of the memories of the time we spent together hanging out as kids, that one action by the new boy on the block sticks in my mind. He saw something that was not right, and he did something about it. Not knowing the social lay of the land and the dynamics of the neighborhood hierarchy, he stuck his neck out for me. That is bravery.

Now I’m not advocating fighting as a way to resolve issues for children or adults. I was taught that it takes much more courage to walk away than to actually fight. But when they jump on you, there are just a few hurdles you have to get over before you can walk away.

I learned a valuable lesson from Chris that day. I have always tried to stick up for others, but sadly, especially when I started to serve in local politics, I found there were few willing to stick up for you as the bullies come out to tear you down, especially during an election.

Folks often do not like to stick their neck out to help other people, but when someone does, it makes our community a better place. Even during an election, it is better to walk away and not engage in the lowering of the standards of decency often practiced by other candidates and their backers.

We are truly blessed with people who work every day to help those who face many kinds of battles.

Want a friend?

There are people that you meet in life sometimes become professional associates, some become friends, some become family.

As a child, I didn’t find it easy to make friends. Not because I did not try, but because I didn’t easily fit into the childhood molds and thus it took the other person to have to go beyond the norm to be a friend to me. I was more like an adult intellectually than a child, so oftentimes other kids couldn’t relate with me and would get bored. As a result, I often found myself alone and very use to those I allowed into my life falling short of my expectations and leaving me feeling friendless.

Despite that experience, I learned early in my life that we get to choose our friends and sometimes even an occasional person that we call family. The greatest challenge of choosing friends is sometimes those we choose fall short of the expectations we have built up for whatever level of friendship we place upon them.

Are they a best friend? Are they a close friend, an old friend? Are they simply in our circle of friends? Are they a friend of a friend?

Depending upon where in our friend hierarchy a person falls, what do we expect of them? A best friend is someone that you can rely upon. They are there in you low times, high times, poor times or rich times, they are simply a call away. They know your secrets; they are aware of your shortcomings and help to hold you accountable.

A close friend, comes to your aid when you call. They help you move; help you fix things when you need a hand. They may not be in your life every day, but once again they are a call away.

Sometimes old friends carry many of these same expectations. Distance and time may separate you from them but whatever level they once held remains despite the time and space that is between you. If a motivating experience brings you back together, they simply fall back into the rhythm that was previously left behind.

Last year, I took a fall, breaking my hip. This experience allowed me to see who was there giving me uplifting insights into my circle of friends. I was so blessed by all of those who reached out to me during that time and since.

What is the point of today’s meanderings? A lesson shared with me by my friend Arkansas fiddling treasure Violet Hensley, who is now 104: “If you want a friend, be a friend.”

What kind of friend are you? Are you giving all it takes to support those in your circle? Jesus shared with us to “Love our neighbor.” Neighbors are more than just the people who live next to you. It is amazing how if you are there for your neighbors, they return the favor in many cases, building your circle of friends.

What a wonderful world it would be if we all enjoyed large circles of friends!

The lasting effects of friends

     John Donne wrote centuries ago “No man is an island.” Sometimes I think we may run our lives in a fashion that we think we are an island.
     If we are blessed, we surround ourselves with family, friends, acquaintances, but are they really part of us and we a part of them? There are those who seldom find their way from their self-exile on their personal island to actually share with others a sunset, a walk on the beach or watching a kite bounce in the sea breeze.
     In the mirror sometimes I see the man looking back at me and wonder if he ever realized where he would be today.
     If the choices he made would add to the sands of an island exile or build bridges connecting him to the piece of continent making him part of the main, as Donne described. Have I broadened the world of the little boy that once stood there in the mirror or have I simply augmented his isolation?
     Sometimes in life though moments occur, things are said, news arrives that reminds us solidly, that Donne left an indelible footprint in the sand with his premise that no man is an island. No matter how isolated we may choose to become in life, in soul, in mind, we are connected.
     In years past it was by letter and phone calls, today our own private islands are equipped with an umbilical cord connecting us to the internet. As I sit at my computer screen, I can check the status of “Friends” on numerous websites and stay connected to see what is happening. I can find out the latest news without even carrying on a conversation because it is all there to see in bits and bytes.
     Does that make my island more connected or less connected? I can sustain an illusion of being connected to thousands of people now where before it was maybe a few dozen on Sunday at church or at musical events.
      I saw where this new technology helps me stay connected. While reviewing the myriad of sites where I stay connected. Some time ago I found a note from a childhood friend desiring to right some perceived wrongs and wipe the slate clean. That served as a wonderful bridge re-establishing connection.
      Sadly, on numerous occasions, I have learned of the passing of those who at some point in my life were in my close circle of friends but time and distance had moved us along in life. Those moments always leave me with the sense of loss that is expected. A deep spirit of melancholy will often walk in behind it. Thankfully though, just a little later I will feel the spirit of thankfulness that allowed us to share the walk that we did as I pan through the memories for the gold nuggets within.
      We are in a time when we need to realize that those who we hold close are the friends who will sustain us in times of trouble.
Those friends will be there to help us when we are in need, or protect our backs when folks are coming at us from what seems all sides.
     While we cherish old friends, if something happened in your town tomorrow, do you have a circle of people you could rely upon? Can you come together to make sure your town comes through a crisis? Say a tornado, a major fire, or some other unexpected happening? If not, I encourage you to start building that group of friends that care about your neighborhood, town, county, region. Those are the friends who will make a difference in your life in good times and bad.
      Help make a difference in your own life; make friends you know you can depend upon and together you can make a difference in the world you and your family call home. Live local – not on the internet.

Childhood friends from far away

I crowded into the MARTA bus headed towards downtown Atlanta. I grabbed a seat as the bus filled up. A black lady in gray dress and heels got on and I noticed that there was no available seat, so I rose and moved towards the back giving her my seat. As I got situated near the rear door, I wrapped my arm around the rail of the bus and placed my feet appropriately to keep me steadied as the bus stopped and started along the rest of the trip to Central City Park. As I sat there I started looking at the man sitting near me and realized it was Mr. Olivares. He was heading to his job downtown. I had not seen him in years and initially he did not recognize me.

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The lasting effect of friends

John Donne wrote centuries ago “No man is an island.” Sometimes I think we may run our lives in a fashion that we think we are an island.

If we are blessed, we surround ourselves with family, friends, acquaintances, but are they really part of us and we a part of them? There are those who seldom find their way from their self-exile on their personal island to actually share with others a sunset, a walk on the beach or watching a kite bounce in the sea breeze.
Read more