He showed me the accordion his father once gave to him. He played a little tune.

Tiny Accordion

Before I met the shopkeeper, I had been studying his window display.

I had no idea what kind of shop this was, but I headed in, to inquire about the miniature instrument.

The man reminded me of Gepetto. I half expected to find wooden puppets in his shop. He spoke no English, so we communicated with gestures and facial expression. Lots of laughing ones. I wish I had captured an image of his laughing face.

I wanted to know if the little instrument was for sale. I'm not sure he understood, but he shook his head no. But then he smiled and reached for this beautiful accordion. I thought he would try to sell it for me. But he smiled and began to play. I applauded when he finished and he tried to tell me something about his accordion. The only bit that seemed clear was that his Papa had given him the instrument. 

It was a short encounter on a chilly afternoon last November. There's not much of a story to tell, but this sweet musical man delighted me. I still am not sure what his shop was about. I study the picture and find little treasure here and there. 

Thanks for this little memory, my Swiss Musical Friend. I have a feeling we could have had a fun conversation if we'd spoken the same language. But actually, I think I prefer the encounter just as it was. 
​

I noticed a man dressed in a dapper, white suit and hat seated outside the Plaza Hotel.  He might have been an interesting character.

Belle Arti

​But it was inside this cozy little Italian restaurant where we met some folks sitting at the bar. Don had lots of questions for bartender Daniel, who had been serving up drinks for 25 years.

"Uncle Harold was a big name chef in Chicago!"  He'd moved from Italy to Chicago in the sixties, where he worked as a chef until the 1980's.  I was eager to get the details of his career in the food world.  I wanted to picture the restaurants where he worked and to know what his favorite dishes were and who taught him to cook. But Uncle Harold spoke fast and his accent made communication tricky.  He got a little impatient when politely repeated his words for confirmation... "So you said you worked as a chef since the 1960's?"  "Yes. That's what I just told you."  

Uncle Harold seemed about the same age as my dad.  In fact he laughed and joked in a way that reminded me of my father.  So I shared the memory of my dad in that very garden, being tossed into the fountain by the students we were traveling with, from Florida State.  I had seen him climb out laughing and dripping, but I worried to my mother.  "Why would they...!"  "Your dad is one of their favorite teachers."  My mom tried to assure me.

So Thanks, Uncle Harold! 
It was fun to meet you and learn about you.  But mostly you brought up forgotten memories of a place that seems like a vague dream.  I've never met anyone from Lucca and you made me realize there really was such a magical place.  I didn't make it up!
​

But I still felt like I just wanted to chat with these folks. I'm not sure why. Then I saw the woman get up and head for the buffet.

Meet Up at the Fruit Bar
​
​I approached the fruit bar and opened the conversation with a stupid comment. "Now why would they have grated cheese at a fruit bar?"  That's all it took. Nita was a talker and by the time I returned to the table I was able to tell Don the scoop. Nita was 84 years old and had lived in Terlingua, since she left work at a livestock research facility, in the '90's.  

Nita brought Ray over to meet us before they left. His hair was neatly slicked back in his leahter hat and his gentle Canadian accent oddly reminded me of Lawrence Welk.  When they found out we would be in the Terlingua area in a few days, they playfully demanded we come for "2-for-1 burger night" at Starlight.  "We'll be there at 5, when they open. They always have our seats and Bud Lites waiting for us!" When Nita and Ray headed off, I couldn't help but smile at their immaculate bluejeans, which I'm pretty sure had creases.  I am more sure about the fact Nita fit her little jeans better than most young cowgirls today!  ​

She laughed and told us to bring our beers on over. For the next hour, Nita and Ray introduced us to every local in sight and by the time they hugged us good-bye (Nita reminded me that she doesn't do handshakes) they left us chatting with a crowd. 

There were cowboy hats and trucker hats and knit, hiker hats. Nita spotted us and she and Ray grabbed their mugs and moved over to some nearby chairs for a while. Once again, they made sure we met every person in the place, making us feel like we were part of the big breakfast gang. There were group discussions about the community and how new people sometimes move in with all their gripes and baggage and try to change things. We talked about Big Bend National Park and the possibility of cell service. "You miss the scenery when you're staring at your cell phone!" Nita laughed. Then she described a bear that climbed an electric pole, right at the lodge. "That thing hit the wires and just fried! Those young people with their cell phones just missed the whole thing!"

Thanks Nita!
​
​I don't know about that bear story? But I loved the way you told it with your big charm and enthusiasm. After you left the Starlight on Monday, I wish you could have heard the good things the folks at the bar had to say about you.

You are one of the most welcoming people I have ever met.  I'm also not the only one who thinks you have a mighty cute figure.  Just ask a couple of the younger gentlemen at the bar!
​

I pointed to all the empty chairs and we wondered together why more people didn't get out and enjoy the best part of the morning.  

The palapa we had chosen, was the one that all the important guests sit under.  "When the Queen of Holland visited, that's where she sat...  The King of Aruba..." Melvin went on to tell stories about a rapper named Timberland who had his wedding on the island. He described a grand piano, on a floating island and all the body guards scattered about.  I'm sure he had plenty more stories.

Playing All Day
​
​I told Melvin, I couldn't believe he had a job where he got to walk on the beach and deal with beautiful flamingos all day.

He assured me that he really did appreciate his job. That's a rare thing to hear.

Thanks, Melvin!  
​
That made me feel a little less guilty when I returned to my lounge chair and stared out at the turquoise water, as you worked. It made me happy to see someone who enjoyed his work!

​I met Pete while having lunch in a small town diner, last October. That's not unusual, because my husband and I meet lots of folks in diners when we travel.  ​

But this encounter had so many connections to the past.

​​Back to Eminence
​
This visit (2015) to the small Missouri Ozark town, was not my first. In 1977,  I spent quite a bit of time in Eminence, along with some college classmates. I met some incredible locals, but I sort of fell for a 79 year old farmer, named Freeman. I was 19 then and we stayed in touch for years. My memories of Freeman led to the creation of this the Stranger Blog! 

He was seated at a table, with his coffee-drinking buddies.

I so wanted to sit in the saggy vinyl booths and order the blue plate special, which was once $1.25 and strike up a conversation with a local. 

Ruby's was the only place with an OPEN sign. When we entered at 1:30 the waitress was clearing out the buffet and it took her a long time to decide if it would be okay to order off the menu.  

As we settled into a corner table, I began to recognize this building.  I remembered this place as a cluttered general store, walls and shelves crammed with everything from chainsaws and canoe paddles, to furs and guns.

​​Meeting Pete

A man with dark glasses and mustache was sitting nearby, finishing his lunch. He was listening and smiling, when Don asked the waitress what was good. He introduced himself as Pete and answered for the server, "Everything!"  It was clear that Pete had the time to chat. And so did we. 

I couldn't help but notice Pete's overalls. They reminded me of the worn out pair Freeman wore when I met him. I asked Pete if he was local and then told him about my visit to Eminence in the seventies. 

Freeman
​
​Of course Pete knew Freeman! In fact, Freeman's son Frank, had been Pete's teacher back in the early sixties. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around this.  

We finished up and said good-bye. I spotted his truck parked next to the Shannon County Jailhouse. The wood had been sold and only his chair was on the truck bed. "Sometimes I just park the truck beside the road till someone wants to buy some wood." he had told me. 

It was nice to talk to you and have you verify my memories. I'm still scratching my head a bit, though. You told me Freeman's son still lives in town and he would be 87 now! If only we'd had time to track him down. Maybe next time!
​

The "Grand Hall" was bustling with local shoppers.  The smells of nearby Anheuser-Busch brewery seemed to follow you right inside, where the aromas from the spice shop and the bakery mingled with the less cozy smells of the meat market and fish shop. 

There were no chickens in crates or grumpy farmers telling you not to touch.  Mr. Simon seemed pretty pleased to see us when we wandered down his way!

He teased us into buying some veggies we had no use for on our road trip. "You need to buy some sugar cane!" he insisted when he heard we were from Sugar Land, Texas.  We did. 

But he wasn't lauging when he pointed out the faded photo, high on the brick wall. It was a reunion photo and you knew family meant a lot to him.  His buddy Joe wasn't family, but you could tell he treated Mr. Simon like a dad as he lifted crates and hauled boxes and made it clear that Mr. S shouldn't be lifting.  

​Thanks, Mr. S!
​
​It was fun to chat with you and imagine you as a very young man, lifting boxes of vegetables and displaying fruit arrangements. Your  boss probably didn't allow you the freedom to chit chat with the customers.

But we got some of those things on this trip and I'm not complaining.  Mostly I loved the history of the hotel and the fact that one of my favorite movies, "Some Like It Hot" was filmed here in the 1950's. 

I kept my fingers crossed that the man Lorrie had raved about, might still be working there.  

I worried about having to share my ride with other tourists.  I convinced Don, we should take a few flights of stairs and catch him on the way down.

He offered a nervous chuckle and sent our cage rumbling towards the lobby.  "Where you from?"  He sort of mumbled in a soft monotone. We answered Texas and he responded in the same tone, "Are you A & M Aggies?"  We laughed and said no, that our kids had gone to UT. He seemed pleased as he focused his serious gaze at the elevator door and began to quietly sing UT's, "The Eyes of Texas are Upon You". We applauded and he tried to hide his awkward smile, as we traveled down to the lobby. 

We med Tom and his dog. 
​
​A Quiet Morning

The only other person we had seen was a photographer, shivering beside a couple of tripods near Taylor Creek. 

​The camera guy had been trying to capture some of the wild life activity that occurs each fall during Kokanee trout spawning season. So were we. The year before we'd seen a mother bear and cub, enjoying some trout.

He said permits were needed and you could only use a saw. ​

You gave us a different idea on retirement, besides hanging out at country clubs. As you carried your few logs to the car, I tried to picture your wood burning fireplace. I imagined some comfy rustic furniture and lots of shelves of books and a cozy dog pillow for Lilly. 
​

It was outside the Von Minten Hotel, a couple of weeks ago.
​
Road Trip
​
​My husband and I were on an 8-day road trip, in search of curious historic hotels.  

I was walking towards the antique shops in Rosenberg's old downtown, when I paused to take a photo of the iconic Malt-N-Burger Drive In. across Highway 90.

Julia's Shop

When I finished snapping my a very poor cellphone  photo, I heard a chuckle behind me.  Julia was putting out a display of merchandise to attract shoppers. ​​

She was happy to know I had actually eaten at Malt-N-Burger once. But now that I'm in the know, I'll order chicken fried steak, next time! Julia began to recall a few places she missed. She used to love shopping around the corner, at the best store for western wear. She was disappointed when they removed the old gas pumps from the station across the street.

​Cole Theatre

​She remembered going to the old Cole Theatre around the corner, for 25 cents. The theatre had separate entrances and concessions for black and white guests. "I remember when I was little, the blacks had to sit up in the balcony."  It was mind boggling. Julia and I could have been the same age, yet I have no memories like that.

Her Daddy

Julia talked about her daddy and how she was his favorite. Then she shared a sad story of how her father was killed as a result of rushing to help, when a small plane crashed on the farm back in the '60s. "It was all over the news."  The pilot and his pregnant wife, (I believe) couldn't be saved. Julia's father died weeks later, as a result of inhaling the fumes.

Our conversation was interrupted when the mailman arrived. "Sorry!"  J apologized to the mailman as he headed inside. "You aren't going to get much cooling relief today. I just turned on the air-conditioner." I smiled to myself, wondering how many stories the mailman had heard. After he left, Julia turned her focus back to fixing up the display of used purses and shoes. She chuckled about how she liked to make it nice, so the sale items just spoke out to potential customers walking by. "You know you want to take me home!" She laughed as she did the voice for a flower vase. I asked if I could take her photo and she smiled,  "Help yourself!"

Thanks, Julia.

​You and I stood theredripping in the humid morning sun, chatting beside the not so attractive highway. But it felt like we were two characters in small town Mayberry, just gossiping the day away. You were a delight as you recalled your favorite diners and shops and people. You didn't whine about how it used to be. You smiled with your memories and set up your display of  goods, with such pride. You reminded me that it's possible to enjoy the moment, even when the weather's not ideal and the scenery is far from perfect.  
​