Sometimes, exciting opportunities present themselves when you pay attention to your surroundings. Several years ago, I had a lengthy layover at the Phoenix airport. I typically get lost in a book I’m reading or working on and must set an alarm to avoid missing my connection.
You know that feeling you get when you realize someone is watching you? On that day, it was an elderly gentleman. He smiled when I looked up. Simultaneously, my phone pinged; I groaned when it announced another delay.
When the gentleman stood, he said he enjoyed watching my concentration amid the chaos surrounding me. I confessed I was wholly immersed in my work and hadn’t realized how much time had passed when my phone interrupted me. He invited me to have lunch with him. I learned he is a retired Army fighter pilot; my husband is an Army veteran, so we had military experience in common. I was going home; he was flying to Alabama to visit his wife.
In due time, he shared a picture of him and his wife on their wedding day. They made a handsome couple more than fifty years ago. Today, he is friendly and distinguished; she is in prison. As he put their photograph back in his wallet, with a tear in his eye, he told me he didn’t expect she’d ever come home. Two hours later, he hugged me before boarding his flight.
Have you ever been inspired or deeply moved by a chance encounter? If so, write about it or share it with us. Set aside a little time to write daily to stay in the groove.
The Snippet is from the Idea for Truitt’s Life
Hi, my name’s Truitt Jackson. I’m eighty years old. It seems like yesterday when I wished the year would speed up; I was looking forward to getting my driver’s license. It got me thinking. . .
I was born and raised in Biloxi, Mississippi, near Keesler Air Force Base, until I was ten. In the summer, I’d lie on the grass watching the planes and learning about the types of aircraft flying out of this air base. My favorite planes were quick and small. They're busy defending our coastline daily.
When I was in the ninth grade, my daddy wasn’t always home. As a US Senator, he often worked in Washington, D.C. I was proud of him; he served on the Armed Services Committee. To show solidarity, I joined the Junior Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (JROTC). I had plans for the future and was confident I’d join the Air Force as a pilot and marry Penny Adams. She came as a new student to my school last year. From the first time I saw her, strange and sometimes embarrassing things happened to my body. I knew it had to be love; we confirmed it a few weeks ago in the backseat of my daddy’s Lincoln Continental on Saturday night.
When Daddy found a smear of blood on his white leather upholstery, he marched my ass over to the Adams’ house; he told Penny’s parents and the entire neighborhood at the top of his voice precisely what happened in the backseat of his car. It was the last time I saw Penny. A month later, the mailman told me her family moved. I cried for days.
First, I want to tell you about the dream that came true.
Everyone knew my desire to go to West Point; I was lucky to know many senators and congress members. It was the only college I wanted to apply to. My mother suggested I apply to a safe school that would take me no matter what. Don’t get me wrong—most people, including my teachers, tell me I’m pretty smart. So, I also applied to the University of Alabama. I believed my reputation on the gridiron would make me an excellent candidate; it was an added perk that my father was a Senator from Alabama.
Although Alabama would be a great opportunity, my ultimate goal was to play in the Army-Navy game. I dreamed the world would remember the day I ran into the end zone, scoring the winning touchdown for Army with only seconds remaining in the game.
Have You Read? House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III
I read House of Sand and Fog 20 years ago. When people ask for a book recommendation that makes you think, it always comes to mind. When logical thinking collides with misrepresented facts, and you disregard every point of view except your own, the American dream can result in an unmitigated disaster.
Until next time, focus on your literary goals. I’m looking forward to hearing about your reading and writing progress. I know it’s hard to squeeze in everything you hope to accomplish each day. I rarely have enough time to get to the bottom of my to-do list.
Until next time,
Jayne
A captivating excerpt of the story.
What amazing encounters. Beautifully written