There are so many reasons why I feel as if I'm meant to tell Larry's story that I can't even begin to list them all, but I'll go ahead and list a few...
(1) Just the way we ended
up meeting in three different stages says somerthing!
(2) Then, there was this time when I was around four or five years old and decided that "Yes" should be pronounced "Ness." It wasn't a speech defect or hearing
the word incorrectly. I knew that most people pronounced it "Yes," but I wanted to pronounce it "Ness," and it was difficult for anyone to convince me otherwise.
(3) Right around the same time that I was mispronouncing "Yes,"
I also did something really strange one evening. My dad, cousin (Phil), and I went somewhere one evening to run some sort of errand. When we made this one turn, I started a crying jag -- a kind of feeling that I couldn't even explain myself.
It was because we wouldn't be taking the way home that would take us along North Broadway out in North Anderson and on through town -- in other words, the route taken by the North Anderson CATS Bus going back south towards Anderson.
course, I loved that area, as it was associated with neat things like Shadyside Park & The Pink Horse Restaurant.
However, I knew that it was getting too late to go to either of those places that evening. No, it was just a kind of feeling
that I got from driving past there, and, for some reason, it broke my heart that evening because we weren't going to be doing this.
Larry wasn't even living there then. After all, he was only nine or ten years old at the time and living here
and there as an Army brat (Marines division).
These days, there are times when I think about missing being able to drive my now-ailing van past his place and honking and waving -- not to mention being able to stop by and drop off cans and tabs,
and, somehow, that reminds me of that evening nearly 60 years ago (at the time that I'm writing this on July 6, 2016).
(4) When I was around that age, I also had decided that I was
going to be a waitress and movie star when I grew up. I would work at The Pink Horse and go to Hollywood (which I assumed was somewhere in Indianapolis since our handful of TV channels came from there) to make movies.
I was actually considering
(back when I was homeless) that it might be neat to live (if the price were right) temporarily in the old Pink Horse building just so I could say that I ended up working there (as a writer rather than a waitress, of course). If I had done that, Larry
and I would have practically been next-door neighbors!
I said that, when I did settle into a place as a home owner, I would want to live either in Park Place or North Anderson, and I was leaning towards North Anderson.
In short, there has been,
off and on, a certain kind of special drawing to that area of Anderson, even back when I still lived on the farm and had no desire to move anywhere else.
When I'd come back from trips to the northern part of the state, I would usually return back to
Anderson on North Broadway at some point.
Even when I was going somewhere south (such as Indianapolis or Cunot), there was still this sort of draw to wanting to travel through North Anderson first...not always, of course, but just from time to time
I'd decide to drive west from a northern road.
I wonder why it was that all of those years that he had been living across from Shadyside Park (since 1980) that I never noticed this fuzzy, little man out there waving to everybody.
reason would be that I was more drawn to looking towards the park (and, of course, not even making that my priority direction to be looking when I was driving and needed to keep my eyes on the road).
For some reason, I guess I wasn't supposed to notice
him out there until October 24, 2013.
Then, it was time to notice him and want to be his friend and write his story...
Note: I'm going to go ahead and save this much of this part of the website for now so that it won't
go into some sort of Cyberspace-style black hole...However I'm not finished writing yet...