 |
| Meet Christian, bartender, college student and budding photographer. |
Across from me sat Karen, a nurse from Minnesota, and beside me was Lauren. She trains horses outside Nashville. And then there was “Fargo Man” — I sadly never got his name — a longtime NBC-TV producer en route to North Dakota for an assignment. He sat next to Karen. Later, we were joined by Christian, a 27-year-old college student heading back home to Minnesota from Puerto Rico, where he tended bar, indulged his interest in photography (he’s good) and got to know the people of that forgotten island.
As we endured delay after delay, we swapped stories and laughed. We called ourselves “The Breakfast Club.” Unlike our planes, time flew. I asked “Fargo Man” about his most compelling story as a journalist. He told us of a woman with ALS who documented her life until her death. Karen told of a 4-year-old patient of hers who had a serious heart problem. The child died, taking a little piece of Karen’s heart, too.
Lauren had been visiting Chicago, where her dad, a dentist, worked on her teeth. (Free!) Divorced, he’s heading overseas to meet a Russian woman. Christian showed us his compelling black-and-white photos of the homeless in Puerto Rico. I talked of my own interest in the homeless of Nashville.
We became friends on Facebook, and then one by one, we left the charging table and headed into the night. “Fargo Man” was first. Then Karen — we never knew if she departed or spent the evening in the airport. Lauren and I were next, finally off on our long-delayed flight to Nashville. I gave Christian a firm handshake and wished him well. Two hours well spent in O’Hare. Who would have thought?
Enjoy the journey.
Always.
No comments:
Post a Comment