It seems good enough to just wave to a feller when passing; it's not necessary to stop and carry on a long visit. Well, I figure time is pretty valuable and I should be doing something to make my banker rest easy, so I do; I just wave. I might have been wrong, but there's a first time for everything.
Gil Frost moved in to the old Rennick place a year or so ago, and we met him with a nice plate of cookies my close relative made. We asked him to church and visited about an hour. He didn't have a close relative, he said; and since he looked pretty young, I figured he would be looking around at the local female groups - no better place than at the church socials.
We met on the road many times as I was usually on the way to check the leased place close to Gil's outfit. I always waved, and he did his one-index-finger reply. I should have stopped and visited. A terrible thing, this 20/20 vision we have as we look back. I had time, almost always have time for a slab of pie and coffee at the emporium. I run at a pretty steady speed, but I pride myself on not hitting top notch due to the stress it puts on a feller's motor!
Gil Frost moved out, left the place in the dark of night. I shouldn't say that. I don't know when he left, but he is gone. There is a bank sign stating the hundred-twenty is up for sale and nothing left of Gil but an old Massey tractor that had been junked out for parts. The yard was grown up and weeds were tall around the place when I finally drove by there. Too late to encourage, help or visit the young man.
I asked at the feed store if anyone knew what the deal was and no one knew. The round table bunch were clueless because they are wading through the political mire and can't be disturbed with real and relative news. I stopped in the bank and visited with the loan feller. He knew. He said Mr. Frost was just miserable in this lonely part of the world. He said he thought the population was friendly around here, had stopped in at the local cafe for lunch and bought gas at the Stop N Shop before he decided to try it here. Then, no one ever visited.
It is not entirely our fault, we were here and he didn't come to us. We invited him to church and he didn't come. We waved at him on the road and smiled big, always were friendly when we met. Surely he could have come by and talked cattle or feed or wheat. Now I am sorry as can be. I did what I thought was good neighboring but I sure didn't crowd myself. The banker said his forwarding address was just to his mother's place in a pretty big town. Thought he might get a job at an auto shop.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, we let a good one get away. We did, and we can't afford to lose good young men who want to do what we do. Not a bunch of them willing to work the hours it takes, take on the work load and debt load, and trying to find a mate who wants the same thing. We are the losers in this deal.
Hopefully I have learned a lesson and maybe some of you have, too. Humans are a herding species, we want to be together, loosely, but together. We mostly like to talk and share ideas and our thoughts. I am gonna be a better neighbor in the future.
Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 09/14/2016