The Old Soldier

I have been writing. Really I have! But, I have not been blogging and I am catching some grief from that. The fact is, I am writing a screenplay. Yes, a real, no-kidding movie. What the heck, life is short and there are so many things one can do.

Today I am going to do a blog entry. I got the idea when I boarded the trusty No. 27 bus and headed downtown this morning. It was one of those clear but clammy summer Nebraska days. The humidity was already high and the weather forecast was for near 100 temps. That's when the airways are full of warnings...drink lots of water; give your extra fans to the Salvation Army; look in on the elderly.

And there he was. Indians would regard him as almost a holy man. He is lost in his mind and very rarely comes out to visit. He is busy talking with his brother, so some say. They talk about the day and old times and old friends. The conversation is one-sided. His brother is long gone. His brother was in the same foxhole as this old soldier when a bomb went off. His brother was killed. This old soldier lost both of his legs right below the knees.

Every day, and I mean EVERY day, he boards the bus and heads for Wal-Mart. It used to be K-Mart until they closed. He buys a few little things and heads home. Today, he was dressed in jeans, a jean jacket, and a flannel shirt underneath. He leans heavily on his wooden cane because his legs don't fit that well. I picked him up off the street one day when one of the legs gave out and turned sidways. He couldn't get up and since he had a little reputation for being "touched", no one stopped to help.

I took him home. He told me where to turn and was pretty specific about his directions. But between the directions, he and his bother talked away and I was more than happy to let them chat. He still says "Hi" to me on the bus and will tell me how he is getting along. Then it is back to his day and the stories in his mind.

I worry about the old guy. If I had wheels, I would have taken him home today. But, both of us are relying on the bus and the grace of God to get through the day.

He struggled to get down the bus steps and out onto the street to catch the next bus home. He has a couple of blocks to walk once he gets off that bus.

But on he will go in heavy jeans, a jean jacket, a flannel shirt, and on legs that don't fit. It's humid and hot in Lincoln today. But pause for a minute. Let an old soldier pass by. Let him visit with his brother. And most of all, honor what he did for his country and what a price he paid.