Mixed Feelings

Some of the following is being pulled from a clouded memory and some from clouded feelings of a man that I knew for about 9 years. He is gone now and I don’t really miss him… so I’m left wondering why after 9 years do I feel this way?

Let me start the story by describing a chance meeting of the two of us; I, a locksmith, was on an evening call to unlock a car in the Target parking lot. When I drove into the lot I saw a man working on a Cadillac window trying to unlock it, my first thought was that a customer had called two locksmiths and gave the job to the first one to arrive, happens all the time. Then I realized that the car was not the one that I had been called to open so I drove by and found my customer. A few minutes later I was done and decided to drive by and see how the other guy was doing. He was still trying to open the car so I stopped and offered some help. I wonder now if I would have done this if I had known what it would lead to on down the road… I opened the car and then found out that the key was locked in the trunk; there is a trick to opening electric operated trunk releases that require the ignition to be on when the key is in the trunk. I showed the trick to the man posing as a locksmith and went home.

A few days later I got call from him asking for help on another car job, so off I went, preformed the task, split the fee with the man, he only charged half the going rate which did not make me very happy but I always wanted to be a teacher of locksmithing and have shared my knowledge with others of the same trade.

Well this continued for a long time, I got to know him well. I found that he was a believing Christian and played the piano. I would go to his small house and in his kitchen he had a baby grand piano. He would smile from ear to ear when he played, and he could play anything from hymns to country to Mozart. He composed music and had led music programs in a few churches around town.

I told him about out church and how we were looking for a building of our own, what that we were growing, etc. He was going to a church and seemed happy.

He did not have much, his house consisted of 2 rooms, the kitchen and a living room/ bed room may be totaling 400 square feet. The bathroom was a closet with a toilet on the back porch; the heat was an old kitchen wood cooking stove which also made his hot water. This is called a “range boiler” and that is how homes made hot water before electricity. About 4 years ago his “range boiler” sprung a leak, where do you buy a range boiler today? I found 2 manufactures in the USA, one in Maine and one in upper Michigan, who would pay the shipping on a 40 gallon steel tank that distance? So a plumber friend of mine suggested using an electric hot water tank, remove the heating elements and plumb the stove heating element into the holes, it worked very well.

This is about the time that I realized that he was not a well man, he did not talk about it much but I could see that he was in need of food and some help. So I helped as much as I could. He did not share much so there was and still is much that I do not understand about this man.

About 2 years ago I found out that he is also an artist; beautiful is how I would describe his pictures, done in chalk, which won several ribbons at the state fair.

I have thought it odd how he went to see his maker; he died of lymphoma in his lungs, lung cancer. He never smoked or drank alcohol but he lived his whole life with that darn wood stove. I think that is what killed him, he was 63.

Now about the statement that I don’t miss him; he was a user of people. He could be very rude for no obvious reason. He never refused a handout, would ask for gas money for his “Queen Mary” a gas guzzler car that he spent many thousands of dollars on, he never turned down a meal invitation and everyone liked him…

Was it because he could play the piano? Was it that sly smile he would flash when he was happy inside? Was it the artist both with his music and his pictures?

What was it? He knew his bible and could quote it at will. I know that he believed in the Holy word and loved The Lord. What did I learn from him?

I keep asking myself why I stopped that night in the dark parking lot. What made me open my big mouth and offer help? What kept me coming back for more rude abuse from this man?

God was showing me how forgiveness and His love can overcome my human discomfort with others. I kept coming back for more of what Carl had to say. Thank you Carl Peters. 8/2/1944 to 4/22/2008.