One Man's Story
The Upstate area is rapidly growing. Although we live in a very fine community, surrounded by equally lovely communities, we are also within 1-2 miles of cow farms, peach farms, and absolutely dilapidated housing. It's the nature of rapid expansion, but it's also part of what I love about the area.
Driving out to Greer-proper, I drove down some "country roads". They are still country in style, and much of the land on either side is still country or individual houses, but new developments are popping up as well.
As I drive down these roads, there is one intersection that I always look forward to. On one corner sits a very run-down house. There is junk all over the yard. A pile of brush on one side, next to the laundry line. There are a few old, rickety chairs sitting out front on the lawn.
Almost every time I drive by, there is a man sitting out on one of the chairs. Usually alone, but sometimes with his dog. He is an older man. Probably in his mid-60's. African American. He has a prosthetic on his right arm. Day after day, he sits outside.
Whenever we drive by, we wave. It's the neighborly thing to do, and people down here are definitely neighborly! He always gets the biggest grin (complete with a few missing teeth), and waves back. He just seems like the friendliest, happiest man.
I don't know his story. I don't know what he did for a living, if he has family, if he's ever served in the military, or how he lost his arm. I suspect we come from very different worlds. But each time I pass his house, and we exchange smiles and waves, we connect. Like we are friends.
That's one of the wonderful things about the South. People are incredibly friendly, even to those they don't know. You can feel connected, often without ever having exchanged words.
Driving out to Greer-proper, I drove down some "country roads". They are still country in style, and much of the land on either side is still country or individual houses, but new developments are popping up as well.
As I drive down these roads, there is one intersection that I always look forward to. On one corner sits a very run-down house. There is junk all over the yard. A pile of brush on one side, next to the laundry line. There are a few old, rickety chairs sitting out front on the lawn.
Almost every time I drive by, there is a man sitting out on one of the chairs. Usually alone, but sometimes with his dog. He is an older man. Probably in his mid-60's. African American. He has a prosthetic on his right arm. Day after day, he sits outside.
Whenever we drive by, we wave. It's the neighborly thing to do, and people down here are definitely neighborly! He always gets the biggest grin (complete with a few missing teeth), and waves back. He just seems like the friendliest, happiest man.
I don't know his story. I don't know what he did for a living, if he has family, if he's ever served in the military, or how he lost his arm. I suspect we come from very different worlds. But each time I pass his house, and we exchange smiles and waves, we connect. Like we are friends.
That's one of the wonderful things about the South. People are incredibly friendly, even to those they don't know. You can feel connected, often without ever having exchanged words.
posted by Susan | 12:57 PM
1 Comments:
That sounds really nice. In D.C. we have a mix of people who wave, and those who don't. It's a test of my instinct to see who I should say good morning too on a walk, or wave too, or start to wave to and then brush hand thruogh hair as i realize they are not into that idea at all!
Lisa
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