I wanted to take a moment and relay a story about something that happened to me last night. It kind of brought things back into reality. A person can sit and stare at charts everyday and loose track of the small things that are real and important.
Yesterday was a tight trading range. We have had a lot of those lately. No movement, no volatility. Struggle hours upon hours to try and get a point or two. Brutal. So what I did was stay at the office and comb over charts until 10pm. If I could just tweak this or tweak that then just maybe. In East Tennessee we call that picking fly shit out of pepper. Anyway, I think you get the point.
So when I left the office I stopped by McDonald's. Not my general happy meal but the whole gig. Big Mac, fries coffee, the full course. It was cold outside, very cold. Upon approaching the door I was asked by a rather ragged older man, 70ish, if I might spare some loose change. He was well spoken. Carried a cane and a small bag. Somewhat bothered I replied "I don't know, just give me a minute", basically wanting to avoid the entire conversation. Once inside I ordered. As I stood there that small voice inside me started nagging "Really man?. Are you kidding me? One tick, one contract =$12.50 in profit?. It bothered me enough that I stepped outside and gave the man a $10 and asked him what his deal was. He informed me graciously that he had been homeless for about 9 years and that he appreciated the money as he smiled. I rushed back inside to eat. The longer I sat there the worse I felt. Had I done the right thing. Had I done enough. Had I done anything really at all. Or had I just done the easy thing to make the whole situation go away. The answer came to me and it was a big fat no. I finished my burger and hurried outside. He was gone.
Small town America is dead at 10:30. Kingsport is no exception and the thought of this old man sleeping under a bridge somewhere just overwhelmed me. It snapped me out of the oblivious stupor in which we of means may fall into from time to time. Where could he have gone, for God sakes he had a cane. I proceeded to drive up and down Stone Drive in both directions scanning both directions, pulling into parking lots, checking behind dumpsters. To no avail I drove around for over an hour.
I called my oldest Daughter currently a freshman at UT. I told her the story. How I was disappointed in myself. I had been given an opportunity and I had approached it half heartedly and it slipped away. I told her I was upset and I encouraged her to always be on the lookout for the small things in life that can help her fellow man in a real way. I had been given that chance and had failed. Slowly I turned off off Stone drive to begin my rather somber trip to my home. On the way there I glanced of to my right only to see a figure, scarf and hat, cane and old jacket next to a dumpster just behind O'Charlys. My heart pounded and my blood rushed. IT WAS HIM!!!!. I whipped the Tahoe around, came to a screeching halt next to him rolled down the window and said, "Get in". He remembered me, asked no questions but shuffled over and got in. I asked him what his deal was and where he would be staying for the night. He had raised about $30 at McDonald's but not quite enough to get a room. His plans were to walk first to the hospital waiting room, stay there until they ran him out, and his experience had showed him he could then hit Waffle House for about 2 hours so long as he was drinking coffee. From there it would be a park bench. No sleep tonight, too cold. Better off staying on the move.
With that I took him to one of our local Motels. Got him a room for the night. From there I went by the ATM and got him some "walking around money" as my father used to put it. We drank a lot of coffee and talked. Ray was his name. He had no family. Had never been married. Had never driven a car. He began to tell me his history and the odd thing was that he knew every date and time to the minute. His mother had died on March 24th, 6:09 AM. He had lived at such and such a place from the 18th of September 1988 until they made him leave on the 23rd of April the following year. I can barely remember what I had for lunch today. He told me various stories of the times he had been given money and the times he had found money, including once when he say a $20 in a storm drain and worked 3 hours finding the right stick to retrieve it in Charlotte NC. We laughed a lot. Ray was on his way to Crossville, Tennessee, where there is a mission which is one of the more acclaimed in the country. He had been raising enough money to take a bus from town to town. Kingsport was just the next stop where the money ran out. After an hour or so with Ray I finally realized that he was Autistic. One of the kindest people I have ever met, and one of those who just fell through the cracks here in this country.
I dropped him off at his Motel, slapped him on the back and told him it was great to have met him and wished him luck and hoped he liked Crossville. He smiled big and said he appreciated what I did and that he wished me luck too in whatever it is that I do. He shuffled into his room, and caught the first bus to Crossville this morning.
It goes by many names. Religion, Spirituality, Ying Yang, Laws of the Universe, or Karma. But whatever you know it as, fate will from time to time give us a breadcrumb trail to whats real, with hopes that we have enough sense to follow it.
Ray gave me a lot more last night than I gave him.