The Walker

Over at Lisa Hendey's blog, she wrote about a man she used to see walking the streets seemingly all the time. She knew nothing about him, and so she created a story about him. Now, she was reflecting on how she takes a walk every day and she wondered if other people thought her unusual or tried to figure out what she was doing.

The story reminded me of a man who used to run up and down the main thoroughfare in the small city I grew up in. He would run no matter what the weather and he always looked in such pain as he did it. We called him "Old Irish" because he always wore a "Notre Dame" sweatshirt. We never knew anything about him, although as he ran through blizzards and sleeting rain and the heat of summer, we did question his mental stability. That is, until the day he died. He was killed in a hit and run as he went on his old familiar route. It turned out he was the father of a girl I went to college with and a respected member of the law enforcement community!

Now, my own father walks those same streets an hour a day, a habit he took up once he retired a few years back. No matter the weather (although I think he does draw the line at blizzards), people see him out there. No doubt a few have questioned his sanity, especially as he walks in the bitter cold with his hat pulled down far over his ears. Just goes to show, you can't judge a book by its cover.