Watching for angels on Broad Street
Now that I am growing older and becoming an old geezer, I think a lot about things that happened in the past. Some memories are of the good times, and some are of the bad. This particular incident I’m writing about happened many years ago and has become one of my cherished memories.
I had worked a burglary in South Rome when I noticed my watch had stopped. There was a watch repair shop at Fourth Avenue and Broad Street so I dropped by. The owner of the shop was standing out front when I arrived. He spoke as I walked up. “Good morning Officer Adcock.” “Morning, Gene” I answered. “I need you to take a look at this piece of junk,” I said, as I handed him my watch.
He took it and laughed. “Did you shake it?” Then he started to walk toward the corner of Fourth Avenue. “I want to show you something,” he said.
I followed him to the corner, where he pointed to an old fellow sitting on a bench across the street.
“Watch him,” he said.
I watched the old man as he leaned forward and held still for a few minutes. Then he would lean back. He held a walking stick and would use it as a prop — leaning forward, then back.
We both watched as he rocked back and forth.
“He comes to town about twice a week and sits on the bench. I’ve watched him before,” Gene said. “Why don’t you go and talk to him while I check your watch? He sits there for about an hour then gets up and goes up the street. I watch him as he turns down Fifth Avenue.”
“Sure, why not,” I answered. I started across the street, watching the old fellow rock back and forth. I approached the bench and he leaned forward, not realizing I was there. He was talking to himself. I stood by quietly and heard the word, “angel.”
When he grew quiet I spoke, but he didn’t move or answer. “Sir,” I said. “Are you all right?” At that he looked up and smiled.
“Oh yes, Officer, I am quite all right.” He moved over on the bench. “Have a seat and we will talk.”
I sat down and waited for him to say something.
“I bet you are wondering what an old man is doing sitting on a bench on Broad Street in the hot sunshine.”
I didn’t reply because I could tell he was ready to talk.
“Look up the street, Officer, and tell me what you see.”
I looked up the street and saw cars and people. That’s what I told him. He grew silent. I waited.
Then he said, “Let me tell you what I see when I look up the street. I see my Angel and she is just as pretty today as she was then.” He paused, then continued softly.
“I was in the Army when I first saw my Angel. It was here on this corner. I had started across the street when a siren began to go off. The street was cleared and from up the street came the sound of music. I stepped out into the street to see what was happening.
“There, coming down the street, was a marching band. Out in front of the band were three majorettes, and out in front of them was my Angel. She was the prettiest girl I have ever seen. I watched as she approached the intersection. She stopped in front of me and winked. In those days, girls didn’t wink at boys. I just stood there as she went marching on down the street. I knew that the girl I was going to marry had just winked at me. I wasted no time in getting over to the football game.”
“Officer, we met, courted and was married.”
He grew silent. I waited until he turned back to me. He had tears in his eyes.
“My Angel got sick. The doctor said she had Cancer. After that, it was in and out of the hospital. Finally, I carried her on what I knew was the time we had been dreading. I was sitting by the side of her bed, holding her hand. I felt a slight squeeze and she opened her eyes. I bent over and kissed her forehead and she smiled and winked. I felt her hand go limp and I knew that my Angel was gone.”
I watched the tears run down his cheeks as I stood up. He leaned forward looking up the street and I turned and walked away. He no longer knew I was there, for he was watching his Angel come marching down the street.
Catching the light, I crossed the street and headed for the watch repair shop. My watch just needed a battery. I checked back into service and pulled away, taking a last look at the old man sitting on the bench.
As I turned up Fourth Avenue I said to myself, “Girls didn’t wink at boys back in those days, but Angels did.”
Lonie Adcock of Rome is a retired Rome Police Department lieutenant. His latest book is “Fact or Fiction.”