The red-headed stranger
Back in the late ’70s, Bill and I took leave of our senses and moved to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. We didn’t stay long, but it was life changing because of a stranger.
While I was still back in Calhoun making the preparation for the move, Bill was up in Tennessee getting a place ready for us. I knew where the place was and wasn’t happy about it, but nonetheless, I prepared.
“I picked up a hitchhiker today,” he told me from a pay phone. Cellphones were non existent back in those days.
“You what?” I asked incredulously. We didn’t pick up hitchhikers. It was dangerous back then.
No matter. He proceeded to tell me about the young hitchhiker. He was 19 years old and worked in a restaurant in Gatlinburg. Bill has always been pretty perceptive when it comes to people.
“He’s a nice young man,” Bill assured me. “Something told me to pick him up.”
Of course, I was somewhat dubious of that belief, but I trusted Bill not to put himself or his family in any danger.
I met Edward, Bill’s hitchhiker not long after we moved into an old small lodge across the Little Pigeon River. It needed work, and I did not like it at all. The only way you could get to it was by walking across a bridge from a small parking lot. With two small children, I found it to be impractical. Edward and his positive attitude made the place bearable.
The first time I laid eyes on the young hitchhiker, I knew he would be part of our lives for a long time. He had a head full of curly, bright, red hair, a ready smile and a love of life. He was a kid who also loved the Smoky Mountains and all they had to offer. He made a living working at various restaurants and lived in run-down shacks. He was smart, appeared to be well-educated, and one of the happiest people I’ve ever known. He was the one shining star in a place with an under belly of hurting and desperate people. Edward did not fit in any category. He just was who he was.
At one time, Edward had the biggest dog I had ever seen. He’d bring scraps to him from the restaurant where he worked. I kid you not, he’d have a plastic garbage bag full of all manner of discarded food and this dog, Buddy, would eat everything. Edward loved that dog and saw to his needs the best way he could and Buddy loved Edward. This dog was a gentle giant.
Edward lived simply, and every so often he’d head up into the mountains and live off the land for a couple of weeks. He’d simply disappear and take Buddy with him. He brought little food with him (except for Buddy) and drank from the crystal-clear springs way up in the wilderness areas. His favorite food the land offered was nettles. He absolutely loved them. He generally made his pilgrimage to the mountains in the fall, summer and spring months when food was more plentiful. He wasn’t a hunter and only ate plants and berries.
We didn’t know much about his personal life. We didn’t want to pry. One day out of the blue as he was sitting at the kitchen table eating my biscuits, gravy and grits, he said, “Hey, if you guys ever need any shoes, I can get them for you for nothing.”
I looked at him with puzzlement and asked, “How so?” And he immediately saw the skeptical expression on my face and laughed.
“My dad owns a specialty shoe company.” He ducked his head and added, “He’s kind of rich.” It turned out that his father was indeed wealthy. He had kicked Edward out of the home when he was 13 when his dad caught him smoking marijuana. Edward had been on his own for six years. He told us that he and his Dad had recently reconciled.
Edward’s father would take his whole family of eight on trips to South Africa, New Zealand and other exotic places like the Galapagos Islands. Edward would always bring us back something.
When we moved back home to Calhoun, we kept in touch with him. He was a special young man who lived his life as he wanted. He eventually married and had a son. He built his home on top of a mountain, a dream of his. It was a unique two-story cabin built around a tree.
Quite unexpectedly some years ago, we learned that Edward had passed away from an overdose. This left an empty space in our hearts and we miss him, but we will always be grateful for the friendship of this red-headed stranger.