On the third post, Lex revealed his compassion and empathy, building on the previous day’s post.
Included below this “blast from the past” are the comments from Lex’s readers which show how his words affected others. They are worth reading as well. Perhaps new readers will now better understand the man who had such a strong influence on Old Air Force Sarge, along with many others.
Look around, what do you see and how do you fit into the world?
Source |
Mon 27 Feb 2006
The Goodwill store, Pacific Beach
Posted by lex under SoCal
I wrote yesterday that being there
made me feel a little low, and it still does, a bit. A couple of vignettes in
particular stand out. First is that of a mother and daughter buying a golf
club. One single club only, priced at a dollar ninety-eight. The mother had a
pinched and disappointed face, as if accustomed to receiving nothing but the
back of the hand from life. But here she was trying to make things just that
little bit better for her plain-pretty daughter, a girl between the ages of my
own daughters, who held the club in her hand in wonder and something that
neared but did not quite dare to hope. My imagination filled in all the
darkened corners of this tableau, the way he left them, the straightened
circumstances, scrimping, coupon cutting, the choosing between things
unpalatable and ends impossible.
One club. A seven iron, by the look
of it.
Across the room was a woman trying
on a sweater in front of a full-length mirror, smoothing it down repeatedly,
looking up from the sweater into her own reflection, seeing a face that had
grown taut and hardened several years back but that must once have been quite
lovely. Quiet desperation warred with memory in her eyes, as she tried to
smooth out a two dollar sweater that could somehow bring the magic back, the
flashing eyes and laughter. Something that would bring back the bloom gone
missing from a terminally faded rose.
The monoglot mestizo couple, the
woman pregnant, the man buying two dollar work clothes, sucking in their breath
together at the cost.
The man prowling the aisles with
simmering intensity and latent violence. Jailhouse tats, exercise yard physique
and low cunning. Three day growth of beard and improbably red California Angels
t-shirt. Looking at the “dress” shirts. Looking, perhaps, for some shred of
respectability to go with his clenching jaw muscles.
There: Now I have drawn you. Be
gone.
[Reader responses to Lex’s original post]
- 17 Responses to “The Goodwill
store, Pacific Beach”
- Ernie Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 4:37 am
Cap’n,
Been there.
I was that guy buying two dollar work shirts, looking for Christmas for six
kids, or a “new” TV for the teenager. Now I sit in an office and give orders to
the shop supe that I once turned wrenches for, and I wear shiny gold anchors on
drill weekends. And ya know, I still find myself wandering through the Thrift
Store at NAS Jax, or down in Gulfport, looking for a five dollar SDB jacket in
42L. Maybe it’s a Chief thing, or maybe I just don’t want to forget how it
felt, back when I had to be there. Here’s to better days for all those who
still are.
Cheers.
- Kris, in New England
Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 5:06 am
The woman
with the sweater did me in this morning, Lex. What a humbling experience -
makes me wonder about the growing gap between the haves and the have nots.
Thank you
for reminding us.
- FbL Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 5:26 am
I’m
interested to see how this comment thread develops. I suspect that this
powerful sketch will be markedly filtered through the individual socio-economic
cognitive lenses of those who encounter it (ugh. I don’t think I’ve written so
socially self-conscious a sentence since I left college!).
Being the
daughter of a Christian minister, I was early and firmly taught that in God’s
eyes we are not separated by class or income, etc. (and thus shouldn’t be in
our own eyes, either). And so that is my default cognitive lens and what I’d
like to believe in my more idealistic moments. Yet I am sadly reminded that
there is all too often a difference between ideals and reality.
And I really
hate that.
I’m no
socialist, but sometimes I irrationally wish that we all had the same
advantages–that no one would have to face the challenges of being handicapped
at the starting gate (whether by opportunity, famliy life, genetics, or simply
lack of hope).
I demand the
power to shape the world as I think it should be! *retreating to calm self
after temporary delusions of grandeur*
- Seawitch Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 7:38 am
Fifteen
years ago after my divorce, I was that woman buying the golf club for my son.
The nights I cried because I couldn’t give him all that I wanted too and the
realization at times that I had $2.00 to last until next week. Having to fight
my ex to get the child support and the trips to the lawyer to make sure he
continued to pay for my son’s health insurance. What can you say about an ex
who tells you to put our son on Medicaid?
Through
scrimping and saving, I was able to buy a house, but I still visit the thrift
stores to this day. Those few years after my divorce were hard but taught me
valuable lessons on how to make do.
- Idaho
Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 9:27 am
FbL, I do
not interpret your concerns for your fellow man as leaning toward socialism,
instead I felt charity. Charity should never be confused with socialism.
Socialism takes away our free-will to act when we hear that still, small voice,
(the Spirit) urging us to act. I believe we can help our fellow citizens more
than any government program.
On a lighter
note…Lex’s post is a good reminder to clean out those closets…stop hanging on
to those too-small dress shirts, because you know you are not going to fit into
them again, and there is someone who could wear them RIGHT NOW for an important
job interview, that might be the thing to help turn their life around. (sorry
for the RO sentence)
And a
reminder to be humbly, grateful.
- AFSister
Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 10:10 am
My son’s
school started a thrift shop to raise money to build a new school. I worked
there one shift in January, and experienced one of those sobering moments.
This lady walked up to the register with a Little People school bus in her
hand, and paid for it. She was SO excited about it. She immediately handed it
to her 2 yr old son. She told us that he loved school busses, and they wanted
to buy that very toy for him for Christmas. At the time, the only one she could
find was new, at Target, and “They wanted $10.00 for it- well, I just couldn’t
afford that for a toy! Can you believe it? $10.00!!!”
I just
smiled, and died inside at the same time. Spending $10 on a toy is NOTHING to
me- heck, I consider that a bargain anymore. I remember the day when $10 meant
the world though, back when I was eating a basket of chips and salsa for a
dollar at the restaurant I worked at- and that was the only thing I could
afford to eat the whole day. One basket of chips for one dollar.
Like Ernie,
it’s a humbling experience to remember.
- CPT J
Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 10:30 am
And at the
bottom of this thread I found… a Gulf Hurricane Relief banner ad. “Help Support
Health Clinics Providing Critical Aid to Evacuees” at www.DirectRelief.org.
Katrina-Rita
isn’t over folks, not by a long shot. Whether it is economic hardship, like the
good people in Lex’s post, or the hand of Nature, there but for the grace of
God go we all. Please be generous, and soberly grateful.
I too
remember when $10 meant the world…
- John
of Argghhh Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 11:03 am
Heh. No
longer able to fit into a dress uniform, borrowed or not, I deal with this
differently.
I deliver
Meals on Wheels to the shut-ins and elderly, most of whom, ’round here, are
veterans.
I work with
a local charity - which got me drafted onto the board of the regional parent of
same. So now I get to help direct and manage a thrift store, a hospice,
parenting programs, und so weiter. With a 5.5 million a year budget no less.
That doesn’t go far enough.
It helps,
when you know you can actually *do* something about it. With the 6 prisons we
have in the area, we have a very odd economic demographic around here.
But perhaps
most gratifying (in that odd, hard, military judgemental way) is watching the
paid staff and volunteers recognize that there are people who need our services
because they really ought to be in institutions… and we just help them because
we must, and can. That there are people who need our services because they just
need some help across the rough spots - and there are people who abuse our
services, because it’s easier than trying to deal with life.
And it’s
bracing to see them deal with those, too. It frankly is a hard-nosed
practicality I had *not* expected to find in the trenches.
But I should
have known better.
The troops
know. They Always Know. Especially the NCOs. And the volunteers and paid staff
are the NCOs of this operation.
I’m a staff
weenie. But I will never be the kind of staff weenie who views the muddy fields
of Flanders *after* the attack and say, “My god! We sent men out to fight in
this?”
- Todd
Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 11:44 am
Sir,
I needed that..sitting here today in a foul mood at my well paying IT job,
users been getting on my nerves a bit.
Thanks for
the splash of cold water in the face.
- ry Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 2:11 pm
When I was
just knee high to a grasshopper my aunt worked for the NAvy dept at both
Coronado and Seal Beach. Every once in a while, usually when times were really
bad for us(and Mom about to lose the house), a car would pull up and some guy
unknown to me would come to the door. He’d ask if my mother was home, and as
she typically was at work, would shove some money into my little hands saying,
‘Betty said you you were having some trouble.’ The guy would then turn around
and leave. They all had the same haircut. Sometimes a mustache. Once in a while
they’d actually come in khaki or whites. Once a guy came on Columbus Day while
Mom was getting ready for work. He shoved 4 passes to Disneyland into my
hand(on a day back then that the park was closed to all but mil personel),
which is how I got to Disneyland for the first time in my life.
It’s good to
see that the Navy that took care to look out for those less fortunate when I
was just a little boy, and gave my family little odds and ends long enough for
us to get our feet solidly beneath us, still exists, even if it is filled with
the self doubt about how to act on those feelings of generosity and commitment
to the community it protects.
- SeniorD
Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 5:07 pm
Cap’n,
My recent
‘challenges’ to find employment, a place to live and food to eat pale in
comparison to those who struggle each day, every day. I remember giving blood
so I could feed my wife and daughter, I remember a birthday when all my
daughters could give me was a maroon colored pen. Now that my fortunes are
trending positive, I willingly give of myself and money to those who need it.
I still shop
at Goodwill while my older clothes go to the same place. Earlier, it was the
only place I could find for clothing. I’ve recently donated furniture to
Goodwill. Will I take the tax deduction? Not bloody likely.
- RPL
Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 6:28 pm
Lex: Thanks
for the reminder. My wife and I do volunteer work to help remind us. Deb works
with NY Cares, and I work with Meals on Heels (meals on wheels only runs
mon-fri in NYC), so we deliver food for the week-end.
I’ll never
forget those who have less, and do whatever I can for them. By the way, I’m a
major supporter and volunteer with Soldiers Angels as well.
- Tom Lefebvre
Says:
February 28th, 2006 at 8:33 pm
Well, Lex,
you did it again. While you may have drawn that picture for you, you drew it
for all of us as well. This was a real heart tugger - and I don’t think I speak
just for myself.
Thanks
- Sanger
M Says:
March 1st, 2006 at 3:43 am
I lived for
four years in a project in Philly when I was a boy. My bio-father would not
send us child support consistently, and so we often lived on what we were
given–welfare cheese, peanut butter, powdered milk, and lots of bologna, often
fried, which I hate even the smell of to this day. My for-tunes changed when my
mother remarried, and we moved out of the project into a real house, and to be
honest, I’ve never looked back since.
My wife and
I have had some hard times, even having to give thought to pawning a few things
to make ends meet, but that was years and years ago, and now, 39 years since I
moved out of the project, I consider myself rich. I am financially stable and
almost debt-free, I am educated and gainfully employed, and we’re saving for
the future. Between that and generally good health, I have nada to complain
about. Even so, I can never quite shake the sense that I am living too well,
that I don’t really belong here–that it’s all a big mistake and fate will
surely self-correct soon. It’s just too hard to shake off the sense of awe one
feels at the ability of others to live well and good, especially when I know
that the fortunes of life turn on the smallest circumstances. . .
My 13 year
old daughter is a rich kid by any standard in the world. Not wealthy, per se,
but cer-tainly what I always called a rich kid. She’s not snobbish, but she
certainly lacks the experiences I had, to which I say _good_. Being poor can
certainly be motivating, but it can be crippling too. Class is hard to break
out of, even if only inside your head, and it doesn’t bother me a bit if she’s
not bound up inside fighting her own sense of what she deserves from life. In
my case, the mili-tary taught me to look up and forward, to see that I really
can be all that I can be, I just needed to step out and do it. Unfortunately,
some people never get that help or never learn they can be more than they are
just by looking ahead and taking action.
One thing I
do for my daughter is I take her to places like Goodwill and St. Vincent de
Paul, or to a Denny’s where we sit at the counter near the kitchen window, or
even to a Burger King or Wal-Mart and I tell her to look at the people she
sees, to pay attention to the details, and that we’ll talk after. I try to make
her see the people the way you’ve described, Lex, and afterwards, I question
her at length about what she saw, what she think might be going on in people’s
lives, what she thinks it must be like to live at the struggling end of life.
Turns out I have a very observant, gener-ous, and gracious child who sees much
and understands a lot. She has a way to go yet–for ex-ample, she still doesn’t
quite understand what it means that some folks have to work an hour or two to
earn enough money to eat the meal we had just finished–but she’s getting there,
and her first job will teach her that. Of course, she may not ever really
_know_ what I know, but in my mind, that’s not a bad thing either. Frankly, that
would suit me just fine.
For my part,
I try very hard to see the people around me all the time. For example, I speak
to waiters and waitresses, not at them, and I say thank you to the door
greeters at Wal-Mart, and I look shelf stockers in the supermarket in the eye
and say hello, and I greet and talk to the clean-ing man at the office when he
comes in, etc. It’s small stuff, and probably only matters to me, really, but
it keeps things in perspective for me. And it keeps me humble.
As the
saying goes, “There but for the Grace of God, go I.” I am not glad for others’
misfortunes, but I am thankful _every_ day for the good times. And when times
are not good, I am just thankful that they aren’t worse. It’s a good way to see
the world, I think.
- Retread
Says:
March 1st, 2006 at 12:01 pm
Does anybody
else remember the envelopes? The ones that had ‘new sofa’ or ‘new TV’ written
on them and on payday you put a few bucks in it so eventually you had saved up
enough to buy the item. That was before the instant gratification of credit
cards so you’ve got to be fifty or better to remember.
Goodwill is
one of the last outfits that ask for donations of clothes and actually re-sell
them as clothes. I was surprised a number of years ago to discover that Purple
Heart and the like sell the clothes by the pound rag buyers.
Thanks for
the gratitude reminder.
- ry Says:
March 1st, 2006 at 7:23 pm
“That was
before the instant gratification of credit cards so you’ve got to be fifty or
better to remember. ”
No you don’t. I remember my mom doing that for the shoe shopping or clothing
shopping up until I was in the 4th grade(1984), and she even kept an envelope
for the house payment(and she kept her’s in freezer). Credit wasn’t always easy
to get(not as easy as it is today.
I have this
to say to Lex—I get it. Looking back over the events of my life 20 years or
more ago and I now realize how hard it was for those men to do that. There was
a weird sense of shame or internal struggle about not trying to be superior for
them to do such a generous thing. Far more difficult for them, and now for you,
than it was for me to take that money.
Go and buy at Goodwill with no reservations. You help more than you hurt by
doing that. You keep the place lucrative enough to keep doing and being in
operation for the kid to get her one golf club and the alcoholic getting his
life back together. YOu really are helping by doing that, particularly if you
buy the higher ticket items that don’t seem to move for months. So don’t feel
bad, dude. There’s nothing to feel guilty about.
Hey Sanger:
you have the same aversion to coupons that I do too? The hardest part about
fried baloney was lancing the ‘tenting’ in the middle so it cooked right.
- AFSister
Says:
March 3rd, 2006 at 7:11 am
Oh man…
“lancing the tenting in the middle so it cooked right” Boy, does that ever take
me back! So does the envelopes for “school clothes” and such.
And I’m not
close to 50 either.
The first
time my parents applied for a credit card I was about 3 years old. They were
denied, because they always paid cash for everything and didn’t have a credit
history. Now banks send credit card to college kids with no reservations about
it. Pretty darn amazing.
END OF COMMENTS
[Previous parts are here and here.]
Wow, even the comments have a "bite". Been there, still do that. Many of us are not that far from being the Goodwill shopper.
ReplyDeleteStill remember my disgust when the SGT Major told me to advise my troops get on welfare.
Amazing writing about real life often of the serviceman's family, that we lived.
Darn good series Sarge, comments rise to the level of the post.
ReplyDeleteThanks once more for this, JB! I missed Lex's blog days since I was overseas in those years and any "spare" computer time was for email to family and a few friends. Speaking of email, though; those of us who remember "mail call" on an irregular basis and standing in line to use a pay phone can appreciate such in the same way as those who no longer need Goodwill but remember the experience.
ReplyDeleteBoat Guy
Another damn dusty post! Great post JB, thanks for the memories, even if they're water producing.
ReplyDeleteJB,
ReplyDeleteThanks for the info to reminisce with. Good Man whom I'd have loved to go one V one with. Still miss him after all these years.
juvat
The day we lost Hizzoner is one of those that "feels like yesterday" occasions, it hurt that bad.
ReplyDelete