I pulled into the parking lot at a little shopping center in our little town. Usually there are quite a few cars there since there are several popular stores in the center.
This morning, there were about a hundred trucks. Little trucks, semis, every kind of truck, many of them flying flags. I talked to one trucker who said it was all about a man who had died, and they were all riding together for him with a police escort. He was a foreign man with a big accent and I didn’t get more from him than that.
Then I went into a community FB page and got the rest of the story. A young man was killed in a hit and run in a little town near here several weeks ago. I learned that his father was “big into diesel trucks.” I don’t know just what that means, whether he’s a truck driver or fixes trucks or what. But it really doesn’t matter, cos most of all he was a father, and his son is gone and was killed in such a senseless way.
These hundred or so people are driving in a memorial ride for this young man and his family. They will drive past his parents’ home, then past where he died, then 40 miles to a big city near here, and all have lunch at a favorite restaurant. The money raised with all this will go to his parents to help with funeral costs. I learned that the young man was a secret Santa to a local family at Christmas, and that the whole family have hearts of gold. It brings tears to my eyes to think of it all.
There is so much trouble in our world, and so much hatred. And then there is….this. I’m happy to still live in a small town with these kinds of people, people who care about other people. People who will do wonderful things for others in their community.
The world could learn a lot from small towns like ours.