Today kicks-off the first of a new segment on the ‘Cullough: Bus Stop Interview. This is where I visit any bus stop along the ‘Cullough and ask people what they’re doing there.
The inaugural interview took an unexpected turn, but since it brings such a fantastically human and beautiful aspect to our community, I decided I wanted to launch Bus Stop Interviews
I first met Larry when I saw him sitting at the bus stop leaning on his walker full of books. He looked like an interesting fellow, so I asked him for a quick interview. He is probably in his late 60s-early 70s.
This interview was recorded and then transcribed. What I have below are the word-for-word highlights of our interview. How will you know it’s word-for-word? You’ll just have to trust me.
The ‘Cullough: What brings you to the bus stop?
Larry: I’m going out to see my son. I have an apartment and I locked my keys in the apartment and he has the extra key.
The ‘Cullough: What is the best thing that has happened to you today so far?
Larry: I had a good relationship with my ex wife. We got along real good today. I moved out of her house because she has this handy cap of collecting everything.
The ‘Cullough: Ah, a hoarder, perhaps?
Larry: Exactly. She can’t go to the grocery store without bringing back pages and pages of stuff.
At this point he got a phone call (from his son) which lasted about 5 minutes. Then we resumed.
The ‘Cullough: How long have you lived here?
Larry: I’ve lived here for about 22 years and I brought my mother down from Pennsylvania until she died about seven years ago, and we had a good time in Pennsylvania and we had a good time here….
Larry began to go on about his mother, who lived to be 94. At this point the interview gets real, quickly:
Larry: Let me tell you this; my voice may crack a minute cause of the emotions:
The day she died, I was out in the kitchen fixing her breakfast, and I brought it into the room, and she was partially blind and she was reaching up to invisible things, reaching out and smiling, reaching there and reaching there and reaching there, and it felt like the room was full of angels.
Larry got a bit emotional at this point. I stopped with the questions and just listened. Larry had been an amazing care-taker to his mother, it seems, and he does miss her.
We went on to talk about drinking, my parents, his ex wife again, church. I waited with him till his bus eventually came and he shuffled on with his walker.
I know—–I didn’t get a picture of him. That won’t be the norm. I just felt like that might have rubbed him the wrong way, he had already been so vulnerable with me, I just wanted to leave it like that. I’m not crazy, but what if my picture captured his soul and put it in my iPhone?? Not ok
BUT I DID DRAW HIM!
Cheers to the people who make like grand!