A Wanted Man

Wanted: Whereabouts of a college student from Estonia who spent the summer in Spring Hill peddling for dollars to help pay tuition costs.

In the previous blog, ‘Pedestrians, Peddlers and Other People", I related an incident that occurred while driving in an adjoining neighborhood to where I live in Spring Hill.

On the way to Lowes to pick up various plants in an effort to beautify the blandness of the front yard, I came upon an emergency-flashing Jeep driven somewhat erratically, followed the rule of the road and came to a complete halt at a stop sign, concerned that a young man riding a bicycle going around the Jeep may be in danger of a pedestrian-motor vehicle collision.

The man came within about ten feet of the front bumper of my truck. Since he proceeded with a steady pedal, I assume he felt no present danger. Still, the look on his face could have been to judge my next action. Once he was securely beyond the intersection, while still eying the Jeep that had by then come to a complete stop on the side of the road and the coast was clear, I went on my way.

As explained in the previous blog, I came to believe our eye-to-eye contact was one of recognition – he of me, not me of him.

When the encounter happened between the Jeep, the bike rider and my truck, I had no thoughts of our previous meeting. But on the way down Mariner to the intersection of Elgin, my mind came to wonder if there wasn’t something about the rider that I should have noticed. Ah, the bag strapped from the right shoulder to a secure position under the left arm should have signaled a moment of acknowledgement.

We had casually conversed on July 1st or 2nd when he had visited my home offering educational assistance programs to parents whose children may need assistance in righting some shortcomings in learning so they would successfully graduate with a high school diploma.

What I remember of our brief exchange of words centered on his age: 20 years old. Since he had a pleasant demeanor and his accent was presumably of Slavic origin, I joked, “You talk funny – where ya from?” His answer was “Estonia.” As if to challenge my knowledge of world geography, he questioned if I knew where it was. Giving a nod of awareness, my mind searched for a definitive answer. I knew it had been a satellite country under the iron-fisted control of the now defunct Soviet Union, so I gave a simple, “Yes.” I’m sure he picked up on my uncertainty but he let the subject drop without further comment.

I asked his name to which I didn’t understand so I found myself asking, not once, but twice to repeat. Even then I still couldn’t get it – isn’t that the way of us Americans who are less than worldly and seem to have this attitude that they should learn our language and not question our economic and military dominance in the world?

Since I don’t know his name, let me call him “Will” as in the movie “Good Will Hunting”. Unlike the character portrayed by Matt Damon, I’m sure his path toward higher education will prove him a successful intellectual.

Will said he’d be spending the summer in Spring Hill to help his mom with tuition fees. Not only was I a losing proposition for his product, I advised him that my immediate neighbors would be of no better source for the sale of his product.

He suggested I give him a wave of recognition if our paths should cross over the remaining weeks that he’d be in the area. Wishing him good luck, he was on his way to whatever fate had in store. Out of sight, out of mind, I proceeded with my life with no further thought of him.

If I had recognized him, a conversation would have led to a whole slew of questions of sincere interest.

Have you been successful at reaching your goal? For what age group was your material directed? Your perception of Spring Hill and its people? What of the number of vacant homes, overgrown lawns and For Sale signs? Any confrontations? Made any friends? Any thoughts on Obama? What of Toomas Hendrick, President of Estonia, and his 20% approval rating? Where will you attend college? For sure, many more questions.

It would be helpful, too, to once again ask his name and get it right.


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[I'm rather bent out of shape for not having been astitute enough to grasp ahold on a personal encounter that would have given me the opportunity to write about something other than all the droleful current events that every other buff writer has an opinion about.]