Chats that mean something

I have had the privilege the past few months to have had a couple of chats that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Sometimes in a world of fast paced mayhem and “gotta go” attitudes, a quick chat with someone you know or with a stranger can be a highlight to a day. So this week I want to share with you two of the chats.

I mentioned in a column awhile back about going to the ghost town of Liberty, WA to take care of my wife’s family property. Well, we ventured back again a few weeks ago and after doing some more work we noticed a large elder gentleman sitting on a bench not far from the old homestead. He was just sitting and watching us. The older ladies with us recognized him as Hawaiian Harry Mamizuka, a local that runs a bed and breakfast just up the road. We decided to go say hi.

He spoke of how sad he was to see the old homestead coming down. He was jovial and joked and teased as he chatted with us. Not long into the conversation Harry mentioned that his wife of 35 years had recently passed away. Emotion filled his eyes as he told us, strangers, how his heart was broken from watching his love die of cancer. For me, personally, I knew at that moment I was going to stay right there with this man until he had emptied out all he needed to. Little did I know that this little chat would be more memorable for me than for him. Soon after it was back to jokes and humor, the topic turned to football. This man in his 70s was an Aloha Bowl Hall of Famer. He had played football for the Kansas City Chiefs. He even used the same high school locker as our president. The United States of America President. He spoke of players he respected and played against, his friends that were now coaching in big time programs. It went on and on. It was Disney Land for me, I could have talked with him for hours.

When he found out I was the Voice of the Raiders, his eyes lit up. We had a common bond of football and we joked of doing a radio show together, like Mike and Mike on ESPN. His laugh was contagious in its thick Hawaiian accent. Soon we had to go our separate ways. It was hard to drive away from a man that I now respected and felt as if he was a friend. I cherish those two hours.

The other person I chatted with on occasions was not a stranger to me. He came into The Star on Wednesdays to pick up his paper, like many of you. We spoke about local politics, the police force and other pressing issues in our community. He had a unique aspect on the issues affecting us all in our area. The man that stood before me on Wednesdays, with his oxygen tank and his infectious smile is not the man I will remember, though. I did cherish those talks with Tom Logan, maybe more now than when they were happening. But I want to share with you one story about him that I will always remember.

One day when I was a firefighter at the USBR, there was a snake curled up in front of the administration building. I don’t like snakes. A lot of people know that. So we did what any person that knew Tom would do. We called him. He had no problem messing with snakes. But after he chased me around the administration building with the slithering creature about 30 minutes, all the time with a big childlike smile on his face, I had an all-new respect for the man. We laughed about that moment almost every time we saw each other after that and when I think of him now; I see that big smile chasing me. Tom was a private man and I don’t know a lot about him besides the snake thing and the little glimpses he gave me from time to time on Wednesdays, but this I know: He was a great man and a great father and he stuck to his beliefs solidly. I considered him a friend and I will think of him every time I see a snake, followed by his smile.

So chat it up. I’m just saying.