Two weekends ago when I was celebrating my birthday with Dennis, my cousin and some friends at Bob's Garage, both of my sisters texted me that a man at Lakeside had died. It made me so sad. This man was not family. He was not a friend. He was not really even an acquaintance. He was just a man.
I was so sad because of the circumstances. The man had only a sister. Everyone knew who he was but I don't think he had many friends. You could call him a loner but you could also call him a social butterfly. He died next to the dumpster.
The man's name was Alan and if you have come to Lakeside with me, you have probably seen him. He is notorious in Lakeside. He is the man on the bike with lots of plastic bags and other recyclables hanging off it.
From the first time we started going to Lakeside, Alan was there. You saw him once maybe a few times a day but he was always riding his bike and striking up a conversation with someone, whether it was a resident, store owner or complete stranger.
My sister, Annie, likened Alan to Crazy Pete from Now and Then. Both men were looked upon by the community as being different and someone who should be avoided, when in reality both were tired of being excluded for their differences and really did have kind hearts.
Personally, I don't think I ever had a conversation with Alan. Maybe because he never talked to children and as an adult, I never really was in the same place as Alan. Even on the dock, since I sat at the end of the "L". He loved to talk though.
My parents had daily to weekly conversations with him. Alan may have had a form of autism but he was incredibly intelligent. He always came right up to my dad on the dock and said "Bethlehem Lutheran, Glenshaw." Alan was Lutheran and that's how he came to know my parents.
He collected church bulletins, so my parents took him old ones from Pittsburgh. They brought him bulletins back from the Lutheran Churchwide Assembly in Orlando two summers ago and would have taken him ones from the upcoming one in Pittsburgh this August.
Alan also collected pens and ties. I'd like to think that many of the ties Alan sported were my grandpa's or dad's. He was always dressed in slacks, button down shirt, tie and trucker hat. Even if it was 90 degrees out! I heard he was buried with his pens and ties.
Even though many people disliked Alan and didn't think he should be allowed in Lakeside, he was always there, a constant in a changing community. Lakeside was exactly the family that Alan needed. It was place where he could find conversation and safety from an often cruel world.
The world lost a dear man when Alan died. Even though I don't know much about him or never spoke with him, my heart goes out at the sadness surrounding his death. There will definitely be a void on the dock now, one that used to be filled with his random conversations.
A lesson can be learned here. Just because someone is different or a little slower, does not many they are dangerous or someone to be avoided. Be kind. Sometimes all anybody needs is a friend or a little conversation.
That's just my two cents... "Bethlehem Lutheran, Glenshaw" signing off.
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