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December 14, 2001
Perhaps I've bought into the "marketing" version of the Christmas Holidays. I kind of wish for that blanket of snow around the house. To me, snow has always been a version of a blessing, covering everything equally, making the world quiet for a few moments, of the opportunity to just look out in wonder at the changes. Of course, in my vision, I'm stuck back a dirt road that isn't plowed by the county, at a friends house in Great Falls Virginia, snug and secure with a years worth of firewood, pasta, and no sidewalks to worry about. Ah, imagination is great. I was reflecting this morning on when Christmas became less of a special time for me... I suspect it began even earlier than I mentioned yesterday. Back in 1976, I was working as a bell boy in a hotel. I had to work Christmas night, as I was the newest man on staff, but we only had about 30 rooms out of 210 sold, so there was only me, and a desk clerk. The restaurant was closed, so we were just sitting behind the desk, watching a small black and white TV to pass the time. Of course, a couple of men decided that night that it would be a good night to rob a couple of places. As I found out later, they had killed a clerk in a Holiday Inn about 2 miles away, and decided to go to Richmond to pick up some women. They went back to DC to change clothes, and then decided on the way back down towards Richmond that they needed to pick up some extra cash, and there we were, right off the highway. Fortunately, no one got hurt, but I can tell you that it was likely one of the most frightening experiences of my life. Feeling that gun barrel in the back of your head is just plain scary. I ended up giving them the new wallet I had received that morning, along with any shred of innocence remaining in my soul. Wow, great note to end on!
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