Earlier this week my partner and I had a “breath of fresh air” experience of the type that seems to come along very rarely these days. I have been trying to balance my blogs in these tumultuous times with stories and commentaries that are not about politics or the demise of the human race/planet, important as those topics undoubtably are. This story is simple, makes me smile, and restores a little of my jaded faith in humanity.
I picked up my partner from a medical appointment, and I suggested that we go for a short drive before heading home. We live at the foot of the Rocky Mountains so there are many canyons that lead quickly up into national forests. It was a somewhat unusual suggestion for late on a Wednesday afternoon, but she readily agreed.
The route I took went up through one of those canyons that were formed by river runoffs fueled by snowmelt. The ice had just started melting, and the river volume was beginning to build up. Partway up I added a suggestion that we stop for a drink at a small mountain town we have visited many times. I wasn’t sure the intended venue was open, but it was worth a try. Jamestown is defined by the canyon it sits in, and by the river that runs through it: The town was nearly destroyed by a tsunami-like wall of water that came through during the snow melt season over a decade ago.
In the middle of the town is a ramshackle old building that was most likely a general store at some point in its long history. It is now a bar/restaurant of a very basic sort; one menu board on the wall says “Beer, Wine, Margaritas, Soft Drinks” – no brands are mentioned. It is informal, to put it mildly, and is full of beat-up old sofas, vintage bookcases, assorted junk scattered around, mis-matched tables and chairs, and, most days, a mis-matched clientele, all of which gives it a warm and appealing atmosphere.
We walked in to find it almost full of young families with multiple kids – the town is home to about 1500 families who are, perhaps surprisingly, young and mostly middle income. The barman, whose appearance reflected the place perfectly, said we should put in our order quickly because we were about to experience an invasion of young kids. Young kids in a bar at 5pm in the afternoon. The mind might boggle!
Sure enough, families with kids started pouring in, and I noticed that they all were ordering kids hamburgers and French fries, which appeared to be the only thing on the menu – even stranger: The menu isn’t particularly extensive at the best of times, as far as I could remember, but only one item seemed a little weird. I had to find out.
The barman explained that the local school – a one-room schoolhouse I would imagine -didn’t have a budget to feed the students. So, once a month they all came to the “MERC” for a hamburger meal with their parents. I didn’t ask, but I assumed the “MERC” either paid for it or subsidized it. A wonderful gesture that could only happen in a small, close-knit community.
We initially felt that we probably shouldn’t be there, but the kids soon put paid to that idea. One came over and asked us to draw a chicken in a sketchbook he had. He said everyone had to draw a chicken and had to sign their name to it. My partner obliged and he walked away looking for other victims before he realised that I hadn’t contributed Three other rambunctious boys, around ten-years-old then came over and tentatively, at first, started playing with some of the lego toys and other things that seemed to have miraculously appeared under our table and close by. A minor free-for-all ensued between them, and they seemed to have no qualms at including us in their antics. Delightful, respectful and fun.
Later, after several large margaritas – on our part not theirs – the kids party began to wind down and a few adult parties began to appear, dampening the atmosphere considerably. We decided it was time to head home but, as we left, I walked over to the father of two of the rambunctious 10-year-olds and thanked him for loaning his kids to us for a while. He looked a little taken aback but smiled anyway.
We drove home smiling all the way and settled into a PBS “Nature” special on the creation of waterholes in Tsavo National Park in Kenya: They are created by elephants and termites, believe it or not. That was followed by a “NOVA” special on how the Eiffle Tower came to be built.
Altogether a special afternoon and evening which none of us, I suspect, experience often enough! As I said at the beginning, “A Breath of Fresh Air”.
