From time to time it amazes me what one can find or learn when they are not really looking for anything specific. Recently, during the course of chasing stories for the paper, I made a trip down Morgan Street in search of a person to write an “At Random” story about.

For those who don’t know, the weekly feature is basically a story of one’s life highlighting an interesting tidbit that has stood out in their life. Anyway, as I drove on the city street, I saw a neighbor from my youth sitting on his front porch, Mr. Chuck Fahrner.

I immediately pulled over, and just like I had done years earlier we sat on the same porch and simply talked. We talked about a variety of things both old and new. Our conversation took many unplanned twist and turns and covered things his since-grown children, Greg and Juli, then-neighbors, Jim and Chuck Oberman, Jerry Petro, myself and an array of other neighborhood kids did while growing up.

In many cases, just the mention of a long-forgotten name or story brought back a vivid memory of the very moment of which we spoke.

While we sat there a number of cars drove by with many drivers honking their horns. Without missing a beat in the conversation, Mr. Fahrner’s hand would shoot skyward and then he would turn to me and reply, “I have no idea who that just was, but they took the time to honk so I should wave,” to which we would both just laughed.

A short while later I finally got around to asking Chuck (as he asked me to call him instead of Mr. Fahrner) if he would be willing to let me write a story about him. Let’s just say that he was flattered but declined, saying “my life’s not that special.” He continued by saying that all he had done was stayed married to Elvie for (I believe he said 57 years), raise a family and work.

A short time later, the mail man showed up and joined in the conversation for a couple of minutes before moving on with his deliveries.

It was then that an even more vivid memory came to me. This is why I chose to move back to Rushville. Oh yes, a number of faces in the neighborhood I grew up in have changed during the passing of time. The kids grew up and moved on but a number of the adults that I consider an instrumental part of who I have become, remain. More importantly, some of the values and things I took for granted during my youth stand out as a link to that past just like the very neighborhood itself.

Things like talking to a mailman. While living on the West Coast I never even knew and rarely saw the person who delivered the mail. Or being married to the same person for more than 50 years, as are my parents, Chuck and Elvie, and a number of others. In the throw-away or disposable world that we seem to live in today, at the first hint of trouble a frightening number of young couples simply choose to go their separate ways rather than work through their differences.

Even seemingly little things like sitting on the front porch and waving at passing cars is something found only in smaller communities.

After I got home that evening I told my wife about how enjoyable it was to catch up with a dear friend.

In reflecting back on the all too brief moments we spoke, I came to gain a different perspective of today. I think Mr. Fahrner and others of his generation have a lot to offer people today if one is willing to listen.

They lived and grew up through the depression, World War II, the Korean War, Vietnam, a number of presidential changes and, more importantly, were not bitter about what they didn’t have, but are thankful for what they earned.

They, like many, myself included, from the over-50 set were taught at an early age the need to work hard, the powerful bond of friendships, the value of a man’s word and his handshake.

As I walked away from Mr. Fahrner’s front porch I glanced down the street toward my parents’ home and thought how fortunate I was and am to be back in the community that taught me more than most of the travel I have done ever showed me.