Remembering an Odd Encounter part 2

The meeting was set, when we left off in part 1. My father was all cynical and surly about the thing and I had concerns that he'd be totally abrasive and rude, which was about par for the course. He couldn't help it and may he RIP and all that. Just stating facts and setting the stage.

Just before Mike arrived dear old dad was quibbling over the agreed upon sale price for what was left of the defunct business. He even tried to say he hadn't agreed. Perhaps he was high or a little drunk when I closed the deal with him over the phone. In any case, I was sweating it. What if Kevorkian was acting up, too? Believe me, I had faith in neither guy, but I figured it would best dispose of the dreaded speargun factory once and for all and I was hitting the road in a couple of days. It seemed I'd wrangled an agreed upon commission when I sewed up the deal, so that was looming---gas money to a place I'd only seen one weekend.

Oh, and I had to make a guard drill along the way. The first of my ballistic tours I guess.

Finally I see this metallic green, Ford Falcon covertible I believe, with flames painted along the front fenders, come wheeling into the driveway. Out pops this guy, maybe late 50's or 60ish. He was one of those VanDyke beard people. Back then that was spooky. It wasn't yet trendy.

I expected the worst. But Mike had this open warmth that was not as I remembered from my high school and junior high encounters with him. A friendly aura of peace.

Somehow even my father seemed to be at ease and taken in by the charismatic madman with the crazy car. We were sitting in the living room, check was exchanged and the topic of the car came up. Kevorkian chuckled and said he imagined he looked like a kook in that ride but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

It turns out that about 5 years prior Mike was diagnosed with cancer. Lung maybe. He was a goner and had been advised to get his affairs in order because he was going to be checking out in six months most likely. So, he began to get rid of stuff which was of no use to his wife, and generally started making sure the loose ends were tied.

One of the items on his list was a sailboat he kept at Coconut Grove marina. It was a forty footer and his pride and joy. He was down there sprucing it up and hanging the For Sale sign. This young couple showed up and the guy was just staring at the boat like a puppy in love. Mike asked if he wanted to come aboard and take a look. The kid assured him he better not because he could never afford anything like that. He said he better just dream from a distance.

Then Mike decided to do something unexpected. He saw the kid's car and asked if he had clear title. He told the kid he'd trade him even. That's how he got the car. At the time it was only worth possibly two grand, if that. The paint was worth more than the car, and a paint job like that sort of limits the market so it was really worth not much. The boat was worth somewhere near 50 K, give or take 10K. Memory serves well enough to know it was in thaqt range but not sure of exact number. A totally lopsided trade.

Mike went on to tell of his experience on the cancer ward. He had undergone chemo or radiation, whatever they did. He said what struck him was how gloomy and empty the other patients seemed. They'd all given up and it bugged him. Being the gregarious wildman he was, he started raising hell with them and the doctors.

Finally he talked the medical people into letting him get the other cancer patients interested in learning to use scuba gear in a swimming pool. He got some sort of program going trying to add a little fun and life to his fellow patients. He said his own outlook changed dramatically when he was diagnosed, and as he decided to take an interest in the others. That was not really his way before.

It sounds odd to be taking sick people diving but they weren't out in the open sea. I did the scuba thing in a pool once and it was a cool experience. The point was, he cared, and he found changes he needed to make in himself through the process.

Mike's cancer went into remission and he lived another 15 years after our encounter. They dedicated an artificial reef to him south of Key Biscayne. They called the ship they sank the Tarpoon, named after his dive shop.

If you go to http://www.tarpoondivecenter.com/ you can find a little more about him, or about Miami diving. Why you would, I don't know, but it adds credibility to my tale. Truthfully, I'd always thought the guy was kind of sleazy until that day in our living room. He changed dramatically.

It was one of those times when you leave a person and feel like you just had a spiritual experience or awakening of some kind. The feeling he left us with was just incredible.

I'm glad I remembered that event. Mike's story, his expression of his change in philosophy, and how grateful he was to have had the opportunity to see life a new way, was a gift. It was an event that makes me wonder that maybe sometimes things do happen for a reason.