Taking A Walk

by Dwayne Phillips

This occurred the day I walked into Laurel, Mississippi.

It was raining – yuck. The north side (as route 11 goes) of Laurel is on “the other side of the tracks” –  literally on the other side of the tracks. The railroad cuts through Laurel with downtown, a mall, shopping centers, and all sorts of nice things on one side. This story did not occur on the side with downtown, a mall, shopping centers, and all sorts of nice things, but on the other side.

On this side of Laurel, Route 11 is a two-lane road with houses on both sides. The houses are small, old wooden houses. Small, old, wooden houses do not age well in the heat and humidity of Mississippi. People with ample resources (money and time) struggle to maintain this type of house. People on the other side of the tracks…well, the houses are not maintained.

I walked in front of a vacant lot. An old yet tall man was standing next to the open driver-side door of an old pickup truck. He had his right hand on the steering wheel and his left hand on the frame next to the open door.

He was trying to push the truck.

I set my umbrella down (yes, sometimes when walking in the rain I used an umbrella), walked to the old yet tall man and asked, “Can I help you push?”

I don’t recall his exact words, but he let me know that my help was welcome. I leaned into the back bumper of the truck while he steered. Thankfully, the pickup truck moved. He steered the truck under a tree that would block it from most of the day’s rain. My guess is that he was to work under the hood and a little shelter was welcome.

Then he did the unexpected.

In addition to saying thanks, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and offered me a dollar to buy a soda for myself. Maybe I looked in need – there aren’t many people walking down the road in the rain in Mississippi unless they are in need.

I smiled and told him “no thanks.” Looking back, perhaps I should have accepted his gift. That dollar bill would have become a treasure. The soda purchased with it would have been the sweetest ever tasted.

This old yet tall man fit the outward description of what most of us would call “poor.” He was a generous man; he cared for other people. I think that qualifies him as rich.

It wasn’t often that I met rich people on the side of the road while taking a walk.