Walker's Ruts Were Here

Walker was my neighbor once, a quarter-mile removed. He was an earthy character, bent on doing things his way mostly. Which led to more than one encounter in my previous life as a dutiful civil servant.

Because of that we were never neighborly.

I rode up to the lake one afternoon, to wet a hook and find a little solitude when I found him here, stuck in the mud with his power chair. Diabetes had robbed him of most of his vim and vigor along with the constructive use of his legs. He had been there for a couple of hours.

I took a short cable from my golf cart (which is really my around-the-place utility vehicle, hence the presence of cable) and pulled him back to solid ground. He turned his machine and groaned across the hillside to the street.

A few weeks later he passed from this life.

It's remarkable that I recall that afternoon every time I pass this spot....