Yesterday on the way to pick up Jena for school I saw the same familiar man I have seen two other times in my life, once when I was eight and again when I was twelve. Each time I saw him in a different place, but yet it was still the same. 1960 runs on forever for all I know but that is where I see him, walking down 1960. He carries a huge wooden cross on his back with a wheel attached to the bottom of it. I’ve always wanted to go talk to him but I can never get up enough nerve to do so. I want to know why he does that, and how long he plans on doing it. Instead of talking to him I just drove by and held up a peace sign. He probably thinks I flipped him off.
March 17, 1997