Once Upon A Time

On some lucky day, some day Providence allowed, you come upon someone who lead you in one of the most profound periods of your life.  One who was present, a leader, mentor, and guide but also outside your experience, aloof, set apart, but nonetheless with you as you lived out your greatest years and experience up to that time in your young life.  Yesterday I met just such a man, after 50 years, our trials passed in the waiting room of a doctor's office.  I, sitting waiting on my lover, he seated across the room doing the same.  I would never have known him from this distance but as happenstance sometimes happens, another called him by name; “Vic King, how are you doing!” and the old man sat down beside him to visit.  Vic King my high school football coach.  I sat smiling, thinking back over all those years to the highlight of my youth, playing high school football.  It seemed so long ago but now brought fruitfully to mind.  Oh those gay years, passing like a twinkle, but charged with life most people never live.  The living, the being so alive in a body which was so alive in combat of the living against the living for the title of winner.  I have never had that living since but was eventually replaced with a living, a combat much more profound, more on the line, up for grabs, life and death; the daily struggle between good and evil.  But I regress.  I walked over and sticking out my hand, said, “Hey Coach King.”  He turned and looked up at me and it was him, the big face, blue-eyed, a natural smile, twinkling eyes of a man who always seemed to be amused by life.  He reached and took my hand and said, “I don’t believe I know you.”

“I’m Lee Benson.  You were my coach in Crossville between 1973 and 76.  I played with Charlie VanWinkle, Danny Taylor, and Jim Cokkinias.”  

“Oh yeah,” he said, “we had some good years then didn’t we.  When we came there we didn’t have much to build on but we got it turned around.”

“Yes we did, Coach,” I said.  

We said a few more sentences and I knew he didn’t remember me.  I told him how good it was to see him, I turned to go back to my waiting and he turned to renew his conversation with his friend.  Later his wife came out from the back, he rose to join her and walked toward me as I was sitting by the door.  I said, “Coach can I get a picture with you?”  

He said, “Sure!!! Honey this is Lee Benson.  I was his coach in Crossville.”  

“I remember you, Lee.” said his wife.  

I didn’t remember her but I could tell Coach King had finally found me in his memory.

His wife took our picture.  We said our goodbyes and he walked out probably for the last time before we meet again in heaven.  Sometimes, as Providence will have it, greatness is once again awakened and you know, “Boy, I was young.  I sure was young!!!