Page 6 - September 2023 Issue.indd

Who Have You Not Visited? He was somewhat apologetic; he introduced himself. I’d heard
his name before. He had built my house. No, no contractor, he.
Back from the war, he joined his fellow veterans in building an
by Bryan Gadow
American dream here at the edge of town. The fellow worked

A poorly kept secret of your author: he is a collector of “stuff ”. down the street at the filling station. He bartered a set of tires
Among other things, at one point he owned approximately for the plumbing. Another poorly kept secret of your author
120 vintage television sets. I have gradually dialed this back is that he is something of a cheapskate. To this day, I can crawl
over the years, to a much more manageable (depending on under that kitchen sink and read the build date, that iron cast

who you ask) two dozen TVs. The Beatles once sang of a man in 1950. The red Formica still gleams (somewhat), at least for

so serene, as he had a tele in every room. It might interest now. A remodel will occur, someday, but I digress. As I wash
you just slightly to know that it has been nearly a year since I dishes in that old basin, I think of that set of tires. Did the
turned a single one of them on. This is less a commentary on plumber get whitewalls for his toil?

the quality of programming than it is on my more recent habit I chatted out on the street with the man for about ten minutes.
of spending my evenings at the kitchen table, viewing YouTube Among the things that made Caroline County a special place
videos on my laptop. True, many of my collector friends have to grow up: my father could stop in the middle of the road and
found methods to watch the “Tube” on the “tube”. I have not talk to someone and never would anyone get too irritated. Th ey
yet graduated to that point.

knew to drive around. That lesson must not have been passed
So, indeed, I do expend many hours per week with eyes glued down, as the drivers heading down Reliance Avenue that day
to a screen. Among my favorite uses of this time is watching tired of our use of their lane. I invited him in but he declined;
and listening to interviews with veterans of World War II. I before bidding adieu, he invited me to visit him. I could be at

find these men and women fascinating, and it greatly hurts my his house in twenty minutes, if I drove slow enough. I looked
heart to know that we are losing them at such a steady rate. forward to chatting more, discovering his story, and maybe

The lessons they have left to teach, the stories they have left to seeing early photos of this old house in a photo album. Th ere
tell, the emotions they have left to share, shouldn’t be allowed was no doubt: I would most defi nitely be paying a visit. Sure

to die with them. It is a blessing that so many folks have taken I would.
the time to seek out and record the greatest generation while I don’t subscribe to the newspaper any longer. At one point the
they still can.
stack of unread Star-Democrats reached nearly two feet. Some
Warning: the writer has taken a fork in this road. (He is prone to rainy days I’d pull some older copies out and leaf through the

this sort of thing.) A few years ago, a sunny day, one I remember comics (The Born Loser is a favorite.) But in time I ended my

well. A Saturday? Home from errands, probably unloading renewal. The truth is, there is very little news I really care to
the morning’s purchases, I noticed him. Parked across from know in the year of my Lord 2023. A few things are still impor-
my driveway, that older gentleman was glaring at my humble tant. Upon my computer I have bookmarked the websites of the

abode. There was something unusual about the look in his eyes. local funeral homes, and at least weekly I pay them each a visit.
Was he okay? Perhaps I should walk over and check.
You have read ahead. My heart, it did sink. “Ignatius A. “Pete”
Moxey, 98…” He’s smiling in the photo they posted. US Army,
five battle stars, married in ‘48. A daughter; I suppose her fi rst

bedroom was right here, next to the kitchen. Th ose memories,
of what this place looked like back when the first coat of paint

Back-to-School was still fresh, are now gone over to the other side. As they say,
“you had one job”. My one job was to drive over and visit one
day. It could be a rainy Sunday afternoon or a cold Tuesday

Styles & Haircuts
at eve. I might have become a friend, a frequent visitor. Maybe
Perfect Touch we would have gone for rides, shared laughs, kept each others
spirits up. But. Bryan blew it. When will he ever learn?
Who have you not visited? Could you at least pick up the
phone, or jot down something friendly on a postcard? (Have
Hair Design
you ever met someone who disliked a letter from a friend?) I
1143 Shore Hwy., Denton Over 30 years will try, despite my shy nature, to do better. I’ve long stated I
410-479-2833 combined wish to live to 100. Oh, how dear I imagine they will be, those
kind few souls who shall not forget me. When they stop by, I’ll
experience
Appointments Appreciated tell them some stories. I’ll be sure to relate that one ‘bout old
Walk-Ins Welcome Pete Moxey, lest folks forget. God willing, his ten minute visit
Tues-Fri. 9-7 will remain with me even then.
Stylists: Ann Draper and Wed., Closed;
Lisa Young (Murray) Sat. 9-noon

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