Grand Slam


When I first moved to Michigan, I wanted to reach out to my community and I ended up volunteering for a local hospital. After a short stint of working at the hospital help desk (I was very little help), I found myself working with a Creative Writing group at a retirement community. This was definitely more up my alley; I had just recently finished studying Literature at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.
I loved the Creative Writing group. The elderly men and women were so proud of their words, but all of their work was handwritten and rather hard to read. They needed someone to clean up and transcribe their work for them. For quite some time, I typed up poems, short stories, prayers, songs and all the other musings of the men and women of the group.
I’ll never forget one man’s story. His work came in a large box; there was so much of it. I found his life to be absolutely fascinating. He had spent most of his life working as a minor league baseball scout and there was no doubt of his love for his job and for the game. Not only did he write about his own life, but he also included anecdotes featuring some of the greatest players/managers in baseball. I learned a lot about baseball and his stories took me back to a different time. After typing up what seemed to be his life story, I never received another box from him again.
The very last time I delivered a packet of work to the group, I was informed of the passing of the man whose work I so enjoyed. I couldn’t help but be sad, but my sadness was quickly dismissed because of something wonderful the group director told me. She told me that I had given such an amazing gift to his family. So many people pass without telling their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren all of the stories they have to tell. Now, those stories will always be with his family.
Whenever I see baseball players or a game, I always think of that man, and thinking about him always reminds me to take the time and listen to the stories of the people around me. Everyone has a story.
Picture and words courtesy of guest blogger / honorary sister Bridget Roach.
Reader Comments (15)
http://www.marciescudderphotography.com/index.php?showimage=883
I recognize the place in these photos. We were members of GFV and went regularly. We like watching those baseball games on the weekends.
So thank you Bridget for taking the time to keep stories alive for the families of loved ones who are no longer with us.
(and it's bringing all the Detroiter's out of the woodwork...including me!)
thank you for sharing and for the reminder to listen to the stories of the people around us...!
thanx for the inspiration....
http://www.flickr.com/photos/jeroldssis/3149959224/in/set-72157611813207761/
Hello back to all the Michiganders :)
on my grandmother's 100th birthday we insisted that she tell us her love story - we got that & several others (she passed away fully lucid & with a brilliant memory @ 104). she really had seen everything: from horse drawn carriages to first cars to the walk on the moon to home computers! my mother is now the story keeper.
http://www.amberbishop.com/blog/2009/08/15/my-reason-for-blogging/