The Millers
and got a construction job and worked there for a long time. I’ve had a hard life, but if I’d stayed in LaGrange they would have killed me. That was in the ’50s, you know? I’ve been shot seven times, in the hospital a few times, living on the streets. My mother, father, and sister are all dead. I’ve had to make it on my own for a long time. Thanks for giving me some work. I don’t like begging.” Bobby dried the car, polished the wheels, cleaned off spots that I missed with incredible pride and detail. He did not want me to pay him for sloppy work. He was so happy to be working for the 45 minutes that I was there, and even happier that I listened to his story as he worked. I’m not sure what to think about his life. I do know that Bobby is a child of God and he had a unique story that not many people have taken the time to hear. I am also aware that to Jesus I probably look a lot like Bobby, and he takes time to listen to me.
Mr. Miller is a 75-year-old gentleman who lives next door to me and has lived in my neighborhood all of his life. He and his wife keep their property immaculate.They sweep up around it daily, paint their house once a year, and keep a well-manicured lawn. They have been married for nearly 60 years and sit talking together on their porch most mornings as I pass by their house. They watch out for our house when we are away and always offer an encouraging word. Mr. Miller and I have had many conversations about the plight of our neighborhood. He knows it’s not in the best shape, but he ends every conversation by saying, “It will all work out in the end.” I’m a bit more cynical about these things, but Mr. Miller’s life keeps speaking in a major way and penetrates my cynicism most of the time. The Millers embody what it means to live good lives in the midst of challenge. They have been sweeping the same pavement, painting the same house, and manicuring the same lawn for over 50 years. The Millers are a portrait of commitment and dedication.
Two Stones “I have been to the mountaintop, and I have seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you, but mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.” I have often wondered what Dr. King saw on that mountaintop.What did the Promised Land look like? Did Dr. King see people? Did he see buildings? Were there trees and flowers? What did people wear? Did everyone walk? Whatever he saw, it must have been incredible. When he later spoke of that vision, it flowed from him like fire and caused the world to change.
Towel-Dry Conversations I went to wash my car at one of those do-it-yourself places. “Hey, Bro, can I wash it for you?” an elderly gentleman asks as I get out of my car. “I’m just trying to earn an honest dollar, bro.” “No, I can get it. Thanks anyway,” I reply as I start vacuuming the inside of my car. I finish the process of vacuuming, wiping the inside, and washing the exterior, and the man appears again. “I bet you don’t have a drying towel!” He was correct; I did not have a way to dry the car. He was there to offer his service. Why not? “Bro. What’s your name?” “Bobby.” “Go ahead, Bobby. Dry it for me, please.” “You seem like a Christian man. Are you?” Bobby asks. “Why do you say that?” “Well, you talked to me and most people don’t. I figure you must be a Christian man.” “Yeah, I am.” Bobby then begins to tell me his life story: “I’m 62, born and raised in LaGrange, Ga. I live in the closet and watch the place for the owner. I’m trying to save up some money to get a room somewhere. I had to leave home when I was 13 because I beat up a white man for calling me a nigger. I came to Atlanta and have been living here since. I used to sleep at Grady Hospital and got to know some people there. They gave me a job washing dishes. I did that until I was 22, when they told me I had to go to school and learn to read. They could not keep me there any longer unless I learned. I left there
PRISM 2009
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