|This essay, Meetings With A Remarkable Man, is the first in the seventh trilogy Visits With A Friend:||The first trilogy Visits With A Friend is:|
|The second trilogy Visits With A Friend is:||The third trilogy Visits With A Friend is:|
|The fourth trilogy Visits With A Friend is:||The fifth trilogy Visits With A Friend is:|
|The sixth trilogy Visits With A Friend is:||The eighth trilogy Visits With A Friend is:|
It works better to say a friend rather than my friend because saying a friend brings forth the possibility of a friend to everyone. There's nothing possessive or exclusive about it - I just happened to be the guy on this side of the conversation. It could just as easily have been you, or it could just as easily have been anyone like you with a similar intention to mine to be there.
In the end the way it turned out is there wasn't just one meeting. There were three. This is what happened. Don't read my accounts as if they're personal ie as if they recreate what happened with me. They're merely the vehicles I have for sharing with you what happened. Rather I suggest you read them as if it's you recreating what happened with you like a possibility.
1) Spiral Staircase
A staircase is a staircase. There's nothing unusual about a staircase. You see staircases every day. You see people walking down staircases every day.
He's walking down a staircase. It's one of the most remarkable things I've ever seen in my life: this man just walking down this staircase.
You may ask "What's remarkable about something so mundane as a person walking down a staircase?".
The thing is you never see a person just walking down a staircase. A person walking down a staircase is never just walking down the staircase. When they're walking down a staircase they're doing something else other than just walking down the staircase. They're thinking. They're looking around. They're trailing a hand along the balustrade. In fact when they're walking down a staircase they're doing everything but just walking down the staircase.
Ordinarily, even indoors on carpeted floors, I'm careful where I step, prissily avoiding scuffing my brightly self-polished Spanish leather cowboy boots. But in this situation I notice I'd tramp down that embankment between us with all its mud in a hot second heartbeat regardless of the shoeshine.
My mind says "Go!" but my heart says "No! Leave him be.".
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