The front door opened behind me and the lobby was filled immediately with sunshine on an otherwise overcast day. The business owner’s greeting was answered by that unmistakable voice.
Bill Darwin was in the building.
I stood up from my waiting room chair to shake his hand and remind him of our shared experiences. It was 2012, and we hadn't seen each other in years. He recognized my face but didn’t recall my name right off. Upon that prompt, he quickly rattled off three things about me … of which I had forgotten one.
We talked about common acquaintances and how his wife, Ginger, was doing. We spoke about Ryan’s Place and his other volunteer work. And then our other guest arrived, and business needed to be done. Our visit was almost over.
“Do you have my card?” he asked, smiling. He reached into his pocket and handed me one. “Just in case you ever need me.”
The front had his caricature and name. The back was blank. No phone, no email, no bother.
“This is pretty awesome,” I said through my laughter.
“The best part is,” he said, those eyes sparkling behind the big glasses, “I never have to get new ones.”