"Judge
a man by his questions rather than his answers…”
-
Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet)
Central Ontario weather is not so bad in
November, but as the page turns into the New Year, it can be brutal. I
was 22, and it was pretty clear I was going to have to find something else to
do with my life!
Not cut out for this…
Following separation from the military in
October of 1971, I was a gofer for a old carpenter for whom, when the weather
wasn’t so bad, I helped roof some houses and put in a couple of lake docks, and
as it got cold built small houses. My job? “Bring me some
of those two by fours kid.” “Hey, I said put in two nails, not four!” “Let’s
get going, you are going to need to speed up a little youngster!” Yes
sir, I was a ‘skill less’ gopher, good only for carrying, lifting, hammering
and whatever else needed to be done.
Oro Valley, 2013…
There were three of them: Bill, Jim and
Larry. We were having some construction done on the house and these
fellows were doing the work. I mentioned to them that I had been a
construction gofer in Canada after separating from the military. Jim
spoke up saying; “I’m the gopher here,” bringing a chuckle all around.
The young mid to late twenties man was slight in
build, piercing blue eyes, closely shaved blond hair, standing around 5’10” and
markings that were clearly amateur tattoos sparsely distributed around his bare
arms and chest, exposed by the narrow sleeved muscle tee-shirt that he wore.
At first he wasn’t particularly noticeable until
a few days after they began work when he came to me and said, “Sir, would it be
alright if I smoked a cigarette in your back yard during my break?” It
was the formal respectfulness that caught me a bit off guard. The
kind of formality one might expect from a basic trainee in the military
addressing a superior officer. I replied, “Sure man, and thank you
for asking. You really didn’t need to ask.” “It was out
of respect sir,” he noted. “This is your home.” With that
he was back to work.
When I saw him a couple of days later, I thanked
him again and said I was impressed that he had asked. It was the end
of the day. “Thank you sir,” he said as he looked down breaking eye contact. He
then slipped across the street, got into his car and headed home for the day.
Getting to know you…
Over the next couple of months as the work on
the house continued, Jim was definitely the ‘go to gopher’ always early to the
job and always distantly polite. Tucson mornings in the winter are
pretty chilly, so we got in the habit of having fresh coffee for him. “Thank
you very much,” he would say and then slip in his ear buds...listen to music,
humming and sometimes singing while he worked. Occasionally, waiting
for instructions from his supervisor who had not yet arrived, we would chat,
but his words were generally compact and polite.
As we got to know each other a little I slowly
learned a little more about him. He was a transplant from Indiana,
living with his aunt in Tucson for a few months. As it turned out he
was bantamweight mixed martial artist, and had been ‘in the game’ from a
child. Those crystal clear blue eyes were quick, always scanning and
although I never saw him fight it was not hard to imagine him being pretty good
at this skill. It is hard to describe, but his extremely formal politeness
appeared to act as a self-imposed barrier of protection for him. Yet
when he talked about martial arts, it was like he slipped into a zone of
comfort...a place of safety for him. His affect would change; the
conversation confident and thoughtful.
He was not specifically forthcoming about his
upbringing, but it was clear it had been difficult. While not finishing
high school, he had worked to get a general educational development (GED)
credential that counts as a high school equivalent here in the United States…as
if he realized he needed to change his path if he wanted to become something
more. Coming to Tucson to live with his Aunt for the winter seemed
to be part of a process to change his environment and his life.
The dance…
In the early going, I listened to chatter
filled with catch phrases, looking for opportunities to ask questions to see
how deep his thinking was. At breaks, or when his supervisor had run
out of work and he waited for his next set of instructions, we had chances to
talk a little more. As his trust increased, we began to have more
meaningful conversations and it became clear this young man had a lot more
going on in his head than he showed.
It also became clear there had not been many
opportunities in his life to engage in meaningful interactions about things that
were important to him. It was as if he was aware that he was a ‘stranger
in a strange land,’ and in many ways hoping that he was not alone. It
was easier for him to keep people at bay through formal and non-engaging
conversation. Over time, he realized there
might just be other 'strangers and pilgrims' and that maybe he had found one
while working as a gofer on a small construction site on a sunny street in Oro
Valley.
The music is ending -
maybe…
Work on the house is nearly complete. All
that is left are a few touch-up things as the contractor goes through the final
items before we sign off and he moves on to his next job. Jim, of
course, will go with him.
Over the past few weeks I think we have become
friends...not close...not intimate, but we have found a 'place' that works. Now when we talk about the bigger issues, we have
conversations – that wonderful method of human interaction where both parties are
giving and taking. It is hard to describe the change in the
way he engages me now. He is relaxed, his gaze steady with an open
affect that is enthusiastically unguarded. We agree a little, argue a
little and smile a fair amount.
While finishing his work here, I have
been unpacking books and putting them on the shelves in the new office space Jim helped build. A
small book I have truly cherished over the years is the “Meditations” of
Marcus Aurelius. I have written notes all over it, and have it on my iPad where
I have highlighted it so much that in places the pages look like someone turned
loose a five year old with a set of crayons!
Although uncertain, I thought this might be a
book Jim would enjoy and benefit from...I offered and he accepted. In
addition, I sorted more books to keep and some to give away…putting those in a
cardboard box on the office floor. He asked about the box of books
and I said they were going to go to the library, but if he wanted any of them,
he was certainly welcome. He thanked me and left the house with a small stack of
books in his arms. I smiled as I saw him carrying them to his car,
and knew I had connected with this young man…no doubt a great feeling.
I don’t know where Jim’s life will
take him. I know ‘he’ is NOT a gofer and has potentially much to
offer.
Often when I travel, I have the opportunity to
interact with people in small vignettes of time. I find these events
edifying and truthfully, great fun. There seems to be so much to
learn from the people I meet along the trail of life. I don’t often, however, have the kind
of time I have had with Jim. In fact, I suspect, we would not have
been able to connect through a brief encounter of some kind.
I felt early on there was something in this
young man, but it was clear it would to take a little effort…a little trust…a
little listening. In the end, I will remember Jim and hope he
finds the path he seeks.
We exchanged contact information – we’ll see…
- ted
- ted
