« Storm | Main | Now Is The Time »
April 11, 2005
Respect
I was flipping television channels today and came across a war movie. For some reason, I got locked into the show and watched it to the end. After the show a number of World War Two veterans described how hard the war was and what a sacrifice so many people made.
This brought to mind an experience I think about often.
I live near a middle school and I was going for an afternoon run. As I was waiting to cross a rather busy intersection near my home, I noticed an old man trying to cross the road. He was bent over and seemed to move like he was suffering fro arthritis. Each time the man would prepare to cross the street, a car came. The poor bloke was having a tough time.
I then noticed two boys, who seemed to be about fourteen years-old, standing near the man. They wore hooded sweatshirts and were carrying skateboards.
Suddenly my heart went cold because as the traffic stopped I could hear the boys yelling. They were taunting and ridiculing the old man.
“Cross the road,” I heard one yell. “We want to see a car hit you.”
“Run old man run.” Laughed the other.
“Were you in a zombie movie?”
“Yeah you look like the living dead.”
“Dude, you smell like a moth ball.”
“Take a shower man.”
I was flabbergasted. I walked toward the boys ready to give them everything I had. One kid flipped me the bird and they both bolted across the road and disappeared behind the convenience store. I tried to chase them, but stopped when I realized that there was nothing I could do if I caught them, except get myself into trouble for teaching them a lesson.
I went into the supermarket across the road and saw the old man buying groceries.
“I’m sorry about those boys out on the street,” I said.
“Pah,” he said. “I ignore it.”
“I don’t know if I could,” I said.
“Well,” he said. “I’m eighty-four years old. My skin is pretty thick.”
“That was so disrespectful,” I replied. “I just wanted to…”
“Yeah,” said the man. “They have so much to learn. I was just a few years older ‘n ‘em when I was fighting in the war.”
“Which war?” I asked.
“The second one. I was a pilot with the RAF. I was shot down during the battle of the Bulge. December 16 1944. Yep. It was a bad one. 75000 Americans were killed. I landed in a forest in the Ardennes region of eastern Belgium. I was a prisoner for a while.”
I looked at the old man and wept inside. Here was a person who risked his life so that a couple of snot-nosed teens could have the luxury of living in a free country, to ride skate boards, play video games and torment old people for sports.
I wish there was more respect for the elderly like they have in many of the Asian countries. Places where old folk are revered and adored for their wisdom and knowledge.
I wished the old man well and watched him shuffle off down the isle.
I suddenly had a thought and rushed after him
“Thank you for fighting for our freedom,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.
The old man gave me a shaky salute, turned and disappeared around the corner.
I haven’t seen him since.
Posted by trevor at April 11, 2005 06:40 AM
Comments
Trevor, This same thing haunts me every day. The lack of respect and appreciation for our older fighting men and women who put all they had on the line so we could enjoy the privelage of freedom, and like you nothing enrages me more. Along a similar line of thought I know many people often find themselves yelling at older drivers on our roadway. Lord knows that I am guilty of it as well. But, somthing always stops me as soon as I start, the thought of what they did, what they have been through, respect, and I simply remain patient until I can get arround them. As a society we truly need to change our views on our older citizens (veterans and non alike) and treasure them instead of shuffling them away like a nuisance. They have more to teach us than any book could ever provide, and better stories to tell than hollywood could ever hope to dream up. Thank you for your time and Godspeed.
-Karl
Posted by: Karl Holbert at April 11, 2005 10:20 AM
One of my closest friends is an elderly woman. She has been though so much. She did not go to war, not the kind of war spoken of here, but she has wounds and scars. She was born of ambiguous gender and was assigned female at the age of ten. Her father beat her, put out cigars in her mouth. She was hacked up by surgeons, such that she has no sexual sensation. She was teased and abused thoughout her life, and now as an elderly gay woman who just lost her partner of 40 years to stroke, she survives, just barely.
I see people look at us in a funnny way when we go out and about together. They wonder what is up. Or, perhpas they don't wonder, they just make judgements. They do not know about the wonderful stories she tells, or the fact that every blessed time I leave her house I leave with something...a toaster, a scrabble game, a puzzle. She spends what little money she has on lambchops and cooks them up for me and serves wine and we sit and look over old photo albums and laugh.
People, cruel people, do not see past their own fears of Us-vs-Them. They put distance between that which they do not know, and subsquently fear.
Arrogant people, and youth often trash the image of those older, the terminally un-cool.
If only they knew how terminally un-cool they were being by making that judgement...
Posted by: Julia at April 11, 2005 04:36 PM
We have nothing to fear but fear itself....if only our minds could wrap around the idea of how much our older friends could share with us, teach us. Julia has caught on as I'm sure many others have but not enough. Will there ever be enough? Trevor, your posts always leave me wanting more...more for the characters in your stories, for our culture, for myself. Thanks :)
Posted by: Adrianne at April 15, 2005 05:20 PM
I entirely agree! I think our societies lack of respect for the elderly is appaling and it's something I've always disliked. Instead of associating age with wisdom as they should, far too many people just associate it with uselessness. It makes me so angry! *sigh*
That was a nice thing you did Trevor. Thank you.
Posted by: Harmony at April 16, 2005 01:32 AM
Trevor, Found you today linked to someone who was liked to someone who was linked to someone, BUT . . . this series of sketches and your short story really struck home with me. I met a man like this today, there were no teen-turds to deal with, just this friendly, elderly man sitting behind a table selling some of his art. We talked a while and when I saw the painting linked here, he told me his story. Some of which you can find at the post, but the thing I didn't mention there was how he said his plane caught fire, then exploded. The next thing he knew he was drifting down with his parachute opened. He said the blast must have opened it. Your last sketch is exactly the way I imagined what happened to him.
http://bmgarner.blogspot.com/2005/04/artist-i-met-today.html
Posted by: Jim at April 17, 2005 01:00 AM