I saw Luis in downtown Cozumel hunched over and sitting under a tall palm. He looked like a man with a story. So, in broken Spanish (and crazy American tourist gestures), I asked if I could take a photo. Luis didn’t speak any English but knew how to ask for dinero. Drudging up his high school Spanish basics, my son asked, “How are you?” Luis shook his head and answered, “Not good, because I have no money.” Then he pointed as he exposed a darkened sore on the front of his shin. We gave him two dollars.
I met LC Richardson tonight while having the best Kansas City BBQ in town. The bars on the window didn’t keep me from enjoying some mouth-watering burnt ends and beans. LC opened the joint in 1986 and was relaxing in the corner. After I introduced myself, I asked how long he’d been cooking. LC grinned and said, “I’ve been smoke’n since I was 10 years old. I just grabbed a yard bird, plucked da feathers, covered it wit lard (to keep dat bird from drying out) and I just started smoke’n. I’ve been smoke’n ever since.”
I met Clift Bridges at the Fort Worth PICK-n-PULL. I was helping my son secure a junkyard part for his 1998 Camry when Clifton walk in the room. His Shaquille O’Neal size and bright orange jump suit commanded the room. Clift had been a fork lift operator for a pharmaceutical company and now works the junk yard. I introduced myself and asked about his dreams. “One day, I want to be rich. Then I could share what I have with those less fortunate than me.”
