Studs Terkel I met Studs on a flight to SF where he was going to give a speech. He was dressed, as always, in his sweater and red checker shirt and he carried his duck head cane. We talked about his books, all of which I had read, his and my life and after a couple hours he fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. His nurse, a huge Polynesian man whos name I do not remember, saw and jumped up to move him. I smiled and whispered, Im honored. The nurse smiled, but a cloth under his head on my shoulder as he whispered, he drools. Studs had become the baby he once was and for the moment we were connected. I wondered what dreams he was having. Was he jumping onto or off the Clark St Trolly car. He woke and he apologized. I made light of it but was glad for the cloth. We talked some more and exchanged contact information although we both knew we would never use it. After he died I sent a note to his address and it was answered by the nurse who was now organizing his papers. He thanked me for the thought and told me Studs mentioned to him the night after the flight that he enjoyed our talk. I thought thats what Studs always did. He talked. Then he wrote. I miss him.
Posted on: Tue, 22 Apr 2014 06:03:25 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015