George Bona and I went to school together. Remember him as far back as third grade where he had spent a year before I got there and then became one of us the year I was there. Mrs. Angelini was our teacher. She ranked high in my favorites for years and the history she and I share will be a story for another day.
Since then George has spent time in and out of jail and has 10 months left before he gets his driver’s license back after a 10 year hiatus due to one or another illicit behavior pattern. In light of all his unsavory past and seemingly rough present there is something endearing about Georgie. He always asks about my parents and sends kind regards along. He is surely a folk hero of sorts.
I picked up George hitchhiking on Friday. He was chilled to the bone and heading to Stockbridge where I was going to pick my dad up for a doctor’s appointment. We cranked up the heat and chatted. My girls were with me and very intrigued with the conversation around the goings-ons with our mutual acquaintances. Surgery here, cancer there, this one does bad things so we don’t talk, etc. (His sister got my sister kicked out of a nursing home for smoking pot – another good story for another day.) As we drove, roofs were pointed out that had been repaired by George. Here are his hands to prove it. Real hard work, knocks, and a few other interesting stories have passed through these ones.