Strange New Generation

Yesterday, I undertook a major step in regenerating my physical ability. Over the past several months, I have noticed that my legs and, in general, an overall body weakness happening. This was beginning to drive me nuts. Finally, I overcame the malaise and started taking a walk in the mornings before breakfast. No food until I walk. At first, it was a walk around the block. It felt like my legs were anchors, and I dragged them along in a shuffle. In my mind, I kept telling myself, lift your feet. The shuffle persisted, but so did I. By the fourth day, I was feeling a bit better and told myself it is time to raise the bar. Instead of walking around the block, I set the goal to walk to the library along the lake trail. I made it, but when I got home, all my energy was gone. The next day I rested, no walking. Then came Sunday. I went to mass, and came home for breakfast. I committed to help with a Lions event at the Farmer’s Market between 10:00a.m.-1:00 p.m. and decided that parking would be a pain, so I would walk. I did. I have walked into town hundreds of times before, never taking more than thirty minutes to do it. Yesterday It took me fifty minutes, but I made it. I have finally reached the point where I will tell the story I intended to tell in the first place.

The Lions had scheduled the Lions of Illinois Foundation sight and sound screening bus to come to Frankfort. It looks like a mini school bus, except it has no windows and is not yellow. Inside, it is separated into two sections: one for hearing tests and the second for vision tests. The Lion Volunteer who drove from Mattoon, IL (2.5 hrs) is also the trained technician administering the tests. We are his office office staff, signing people in, and directing traffic in and out of the bus. My job was to hail people attending the market and offer them a free screening. To do that I stood on the street in line with the Old Plank Trail bicycle path. It was busy with pedestrians visiting the market. Simultaneous to all this activity a number of Lions were there hawking tickets for our annual Wurst Fest. I was doing both, hawking tickets and vision screening.

A middle aged man about forty was semi-walking riding his bike through the crowd as he straddled past me I asked him if he had his Wurst Fest ticket yet? “What’s that,” he asked. I replied, “You are not from here are you?”

“No,” he replied, “I am in shock.” I asked him where he was from, and he told me Taylor Street in Chicago. He was far from home, so I proceeded to explain what the Wurst Fest is. “I am in shock,” he said again. I finally asked him “what is so shocking?”

“Everyone is married!” Then it came to me. Taylor street is near the center of Chicago in the U of I and Little Italy neighborhoods. Next to that is a string of hospitals, Stroger, Cook County, Rush, and University of Illinois. Young people abound in these areas. Some study and some work at the hospitals. They ride bikes and electric scooters to get around. They work, eat, go out at night to drink, listen to loud music, and hook up. They sow their oats. Then something happens and they find a life partner and enter the next phase of life; they wind up in towns like Frankfort with wives, kids, schools, churches, homes , Sunday hand holding or stroller pushing strolls through the farmer’s market etc. He just didn’t enter that phase yet, and maybe he never will, but at least he can say he caught a glimpse of it in Frankfort.