Volunteering as a trainman on the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad in our national park, you never know who you'll run into among the thousands of passengers over the years.
Enjoy
talking with everybody and they come from all over. But it's
especially great when you run into someone you know and work
with.
Such
is the case the other day when a lady told me that the ride was
a
92rd birthday present for her dad, who was sitting
beside
her.
We
chatted for a few minutes while waiting for the train at the
North
side station and in the course of things, I mentioned I retired
from
the Akron Beacon Journal.
The
lady said: “So did my dad.”
Turned
out her day is retired printer Lloyd Bigelow, looking fit as a
fiddle
at his age.
We
immediately began talking a walk down memory lane..coming up
with
names of folks we'd work with and recalling a story or two.
One
he told me was about the late printer Bill Ferguson when Loyd
and a
bunch of printers spend vacation days in Florida at the motel
owned
by another former BJ printer, Bill Gorrell.
Fergie
went for a swim and when he came out of the water he asked folks
if
they had seen his teeth. Nobody
had and it turned out he had lost his lower plate in the ocean.
Loyld
retired in 1992 and lives in Cuyahoga Falls. With
him on the birthday trip was son-in-law Tim Hermann and daughter
Becky Herman.
This
isn't the first time I've run into a BJ link.
A
while back in talking with a couple, the lady said maybe you
knew my
dad...Robert Griffin.
Bob
was composing room foreman while I was at the BJ. The daughter
was
Joann who was aboard with her husband. I've lost my notes on the
couple. I wrote them on a scrap of paper and lost it.
I
used to run into her sister, Jeannie, at Wal-mart in Cuyahoga
Falls. She
recalled that on auto trips, Bob would recite the poem
“Cremation
of Sam Magee.”
That
led me to tell her a story about that. It was at a retiree
luncheon. Bob
was sitting at the head table. And at the end table sat Craig
Wilson.
It was around Christmas and Craig was going into his act and
reciting
“Night Before Christmas”.
While
Craig was talking, Bob in a soft voice that could be heard by
those
sitting nearby, recited the cremation.... don't know if Craig
ever
knew this. But
of all the times he came up with poem, none of the kids had a
recording of the performance.
When
I mentioned this at one of our luncheons, one of the printer
said he
had a cassette of Bob. I
borrowed it and made copies and passed it on to Jeanne who has
retired from her Wal-mart job.
So
running into people you would probably never know when you pass
them
on the street and getting reacquainted is a great bonus of this
volunteer job.