The Flight to 1945

I've always avoided talking to strangers. My mother would constantly say you never know if there's a cruel heart lurking behind a kind smile and infectious charm. A man named Jed sat next to me on my flight to Phoenix, and immediately, I was wary of his charisma. He's the kind who liked to talk to whoever would engage him. He either didn't notice me trying to avoid conversation or didn't care. Being polite, I smiled and nodded where appropriate, but it wasn't until his tone turned wishful when he talked about Nancy did he have my attention.

In the summer of 1945, Jed walked down the boardwalk, the nickels in his pockets weighing his pants down to one side. He'd spent the summer walking across the same worn boards with waves rolling on the chilly shores to one side, while games rattle on his other. Late afternoon heat beat across his nose when Jed bumped into a girl standing in the middle of the walkway.

"Excuse me Miss, I didn't see you there." The girl stood tall, unfazed by the intrusion of space. Jed told me her confidence had always been unshakeable. Between her and the sun, he immediately began to sweat.

"It's fine, I'm in your way." Her voice was soft and mouth quirked to one side. "I'm Nancy," she said, sticking her hand out.

"Jed." He clasped her hand, and their summer was sealed.

The rest of the summer was all wooden roller coasters and crisp riptides. They two found each other everyday. He and Nancy spent their time circling the best games and racing down the boardwalk. I asked him at one point if their friendship ever became dry, but he just shook his head.

"With Nancy? Never." Mischief leaked between his words.

One afternoon, summer creeping to a close, the wind was brisk as it cut across the water, chilling their skin. Nancy drew her sweater closer as their bare feet pushed though the sand. Not thirty feet to their left sat a man with his hands under his knees pulled close to his body. His jacket was worn at the elbows, and looked as though it hadn't seen a wash in several weeks.

When they reached the boardwalk, Nancy glanced back and said, "Let me see some of that change in your pocket. We need to buy that man a hat." Her voice dropped with concern.

"No, I'm saving it for something special," Jed replied, placing a protective hand over his pocket. Nancy's assertiveness had a tendency to make him forget to consider his own thoughts.

"Jed, your pocket has been jingling around all summer. That man over there is freezing. What's more special than giving someone what you have when they need it more?" He knew she was right, but it was the only money his parents gave him for the whole summer.

Jed told me it was the shine in her eyes that did it for him. Until that point, he couldn't remember a time he'd ever seen someone care so passionately about somebody they'd never met. It wasn't that he didn't care if other people went hungry or cold, it had just never occurred to him he could do anything to help. Whenever he passed a homeless man, his mother would yank him closer and keep walking.

They bought him a hat. Dark blue and thick to keep the heat. He told me he's never forgotten the smile the man gave them as he looked up from his spot and the joy on Nancy's face as she shook his hand. Not a day goes by without thinking about Nancy and her unwavering commitment to lessen the burden of a stranger. Every summer his family went back to that boardwalk, but Nancy never came back to visit.

Jed's fingers tapped against the plane cookies the flight attendant gave him. His eyes lost in the summer of a thirteen year old boy.

"So you never saw Nancy again?" I asked. I thought about the friends I'd made on vacation as a kid, and realized I hadn't ever kept in touch either. I'm not sure I could remember any of their names, much less the way Jed remembers Nancy.

"Oh I wouldn't say that," Jed chuckled. "I see Nancy everytime I kiss a cut on my grandson's knee, or when someone pauses to hold the door open for me. I was only a boy, but Nancy taught me how to give. I've come to realize the best part of living is finding what you can do for someone else. I see her everywhere."

The plane rumbled as the wheels popped out to begin their final descent. Jed smiled and gave a slight shake to his head as he looked out the window, watching the world sharpen in focus.

"I think you would've made Nancy happy telling me your story today," I told him. Listening to him tell his old stories made it easy for me to forget I'm supposed to be afraid of a strange man talking to me. Sometimes what someone needs is a nudge out of their comfort zone to find a new perspective. "At least you surprised me on what I assumed would have been a boring flight."

Jed beamed. By giving me what I needed to hear, I was able to give him what he loves most: a listening ear, and a glimpse of his lost Nancy. It's too easy to get wrapped up in my own life and worries, I forget to be a teammate in the world around me. I made sure to pull down his suitcase and thank him for the conversation. Jed and I parted ways at the gate, but as I walked through the terminal, where Jed would have seen Nancy, I saw him.