“Do not worry about it. I will pay the bill”
Horace was a good man. One would have had a hard time finding anyone that would have a negative word to say about him. He seemed to have a good, solid marriage. His wife and he raised two fine daughters and fine son. The daughters were successful in their chosen careers. Their son went into law enforcement and advanced through his department to a high rank. He was well thought of in his community, a good neighbor to all. In his local church, he served for many years as a deacon. He was shy, soft spoken, and dependable. He was the kind of fellow that could be counted on. In addition, he knew a lot about fishing for trout, using a dry-fly or a nymph. Horace was a good man.
He was born and raised in a rural area. He did some subsistence farming; growing tobacco and raising a few cows and calves. His father was a good carpenter. He learned from him the tools of the trade; although he did not use those skills vocationally. Horace supported his family by working for a well-known (now gone) dairy company. For several years he drove a “milk truck”. In his later years of employment he worked (primarily) as a janitor for the company, keeping the ware-house and the dairy-bar as clean as possible. The dairy-bar was a favorite place for many to buy ice-cream, and ice-cream related (cones, sundaes, shakes, popsicles, and so forth) products. It was often crowded by folks that stopped by for refreshment.
An uncle and aunt of mine lived on the hill above the dairy-bar. Often times, as a lad, my parents would allow me to stay with my uncle and aunt during the day, particularly when school was out for summer vacation. There were some kids in their neighborhood to play with and my aunt did not mind watching after me while I played. The mothers of most of the other kids were at home. It was a safe and fun place to spend time.
One day, a friend of mine suggested that we slip off and go to the dairy-bar and get a banana-split a piece. At the time that seemed like a good idea so off we went, without getting permission or letting anyone know our plans. Arriving at the dairy-bar, we went inside, climbed up on a stool adjacent to the service counter, and ordered a banana-split each. We received our order and immediately dug in. It was wonderful! However, the lady behind the counter destroyed our moment of delightful enjoyment. We were about halfway finished eating when she placed a small piece of green-paper on the counter between us. Immediately I looked at the paper. With extreme fear, panic, and tear-filled eyes I looked at my friend; only to find him looking back at me mirroring fear, panic, and tear-filled eyes. Oh my! The lady behind the counter had written on the piece of green-paper that we owned $1.49 each for our ice-cream indulgence. She could have written that we owned $20,000,000 as far as that goes! While we would not have had $20,000,000; we did not have $1.49 either. In fact, between the two of us we had absolutely nothing! Nada! Zilch! Not a penny! Oh boy! We were in a mess. Not only had we slipped away from the care of my aunt, and his mother, but we had a gigantic debt and no way to pay. Calling my aunt, or his mother, on the phone was not an option, particularly if we were planning to be able to sit down for the next month and a half. Gosh! What a mess we were in! Of course, it was no one else’s fault. It was because of our own doing.
While sitting there on our stools, looking at our melting banana-splits, we knew the end was near. Just at our moment of total desperation, in the very midst of our time of despair, Horace did something for which I shall ever be grateful. Extending his hand between the two of us, he picked up that awful piece of green-paper. He put his arms around our pitiful shoulders and hugged us firmly, but not too tightly. Then he said, “Boys, enjoy your ice cream before it all melts. Do not worry about it. I will pay the bill.”
For some reason, I remember that day and what Horace did. This is a memory that I treasure.