DAY 32: OLD - TIMEY

DAY 32:  OLD-TIMEY

It’s the beginning of a brand new month in 2010, but I am thinking of “Old Timey Things”.

That line of thinking naturally led me to thoughts of my dear old friend, John Greenwell (a/k/a “Snarepole”).

I knew him for a long long time, but never realized until after he died that he still washed his socks in a bucket, with the help of a big spoon. Who else does that, in this day and time? No one I know - except John Greenwell.

The picture shows his last socks that never made it over into the rinse bucket and eventually to the line outside to dry. I imagine they were just tossed out with many other things after he died. But now you have it: Snarepole’s last socks. He liked to be clean. It was important to him.

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Snarepole told a story more than once of brutally hard times in the winter when he lived in the knobs of St. Francis, and of one time in particular that he and his mother desperately needed food. From the way he told it, they surely were in danger of starving to death. He set out on foot over the knobs, trying to bring some food back home. He said his feet were frost-bitten from his effort to obtain sustenance, and his feet had given him trouble ever since.

But he came through for them, and they survived the winter – and many more winters.

He loved his mother dearly.

This is my brother, Joe, with John Greenwell during what I believe was Snarepole’s last stay in the hospital. I had stopped by to visit, and when I arrived, I found Joe there with him. They were both used to me taking pictures, so I was able to get this one without much grief.

Several of us would regularly take food to Mr. Greenwell.

On this afternoon, I showed up at the door with my bounty; once I looked through the door window, though, I hated to disturb him. It seemed to be one of his “lonely” days when he’d crank up the stereo and play some Hank Jr. as he drank some (correction: a lot of) whiskey. At those times, I’d just knock, put the plates at the door, and leave without visiting. I loved him, so I couldn’t leave without snapping a photo that might be memorable – and this one sure is memorable in my book.