NoJoMo 30

 I had a day yesterday. I went out to Lynn’s Pick-a-tree Christmas tree farm. Lynn Oxendale is an old friend. I first met him 25 years ago when I delivered mail to his house in the ghetto of Decatur. He said, "There are a lot of blacks living around here. I was worried that they wouldn’t let me into a neighborhood with such nice people." he told me with gracious sarcasm. He is a very friendly sweet guy. For Christmas he gave me a jar of honey. He lives in the inner city, and owns a couple of rental properties. He worked for a seed company near here for a lifetime career, but the property he bought out of town is his real focus.

I just happened to be in the area out there yesterday and saw the hastily fashioned cardboard hand lettered sign and thought I’d stop in to see him. He had a customer when I got there, but he said, "Hi, hey, if you’re not busy stick around." So, he sold the customer a tree, then some honey, then a tree skirt. When they left he took me around the back of the shop and tried to get me to take some of the scores of turnips he had still growing there. I didn’t take any. Then he just started introducing me to his many fruit and other trees around the place as if they were old friends. He is a remarkable, remarkable guy. Sunday was his 88th birthday and he is still working at the Christmas tree and honey producing farm 40-80 hours a week. Still happy as can be. His biggest concern in life is his poor wife. She became very big and clinically depressed long ago. Lynn has stayed faithful to her. He visits her every day in the nursing home. Some days she is communicative and knows him. Some days not. But, he goes anyway. He frequently stops at McDonald’s for coffee on the way to or from the nursing home. But, he always has a smile. He is the one at McD’s who recited the poem when we brought up chicken raising,

"Said the big handsome rooster to the cute little hen.

‘Why you haven’t laid an egg for me since who knows when.’

Said the cute little hen to the big handsome rooster,

‘But you don’t seem to come around as often as you uster.’"

He has an amazing 12-30 acres out there. He showed me the creek, that he put an old furniture store sign across to make a little bridge. He showed me a huge sycamore, 6 feet across at the base. His pond is stocked with fish that he feeds stale bread from time to time. He showed me where he originally planned to build a home and where on the big lot he would put one now if he were to build. Dreams. Big dreams. His wife was too afraid to live way out there away from everything. So, he never built.

He regularly worries about his $1000 a week nursing home bill. I don’t know how he pays it. He has some rental properties, Social Security, and makes about $3 and hour for the time he spends on the trees and honey.

At coffee today I mentioned going out to the farm to see Lynn. He said, Lynn had a million dollar property there. I wonder what the land is worth? It must be one of the best undeveloped lots in the area. You could build a house in the middle at the highest point on it and with the trees, no one would be able to see it at all; not from the road, not even from his nearest neighbor’s property. The lot is full of hills with a nice pond.

He mentioned that his daughter in Texas is the 2nd highest executive at a 500 bed hospital in Texas. She surely makes enough money that Lynn wouldn’t go hungry, but I would guess Lynn would never ask her for anything. He is a man’s man. Not a macho person, no, not that at all. Just a real man taking care of life. It was pleasure and a privilege to spend the hour with him yesterday.