It’s a Really Small World

One of the first instances that comes to my mind occurred in the early 1980’s when Ron and I and our family went to a fall retreat with our church at Camp Cedar Falls in the San Bernardino Mountains in Southern California.  It was a gorgeous weekend and a wonderful time to fellowship with other members and good friends.  I didn’t know there were other congregations there as well. 

Ron went to breakfast early before worship and I decided to sleep in for an hour or two.  Almost immediately Ron rushed back and shook me to waken me.  “Joyce, you’ve got to come to the cafeteria!  Now!  I just saw these two girls who look just like your Mother.  Hurry – you won’t believe it!  It’s amazing!  I really could have cared less and told him so, but I reluctantly struggled out of bed and followed him out into the pine scented nippy morning air.  As soon as we reached the cafeteria he distanced himself from me and just said look around and see if there’s someone here who looks familiar.  I of course had no clue of what to look for so I felt like a fool.  Luckily most of the people in the room were African-Americans so that narrowed it a little bit.  I really wanted to go and sit down and have some toast and a hot drink, but I wandered through the tables making my way towards the serving area and midway I stopped in my tracks.  There before me were two young ladies sitting together at a table and as they casually looked up at me as I passed I was assaulted with the unmistakable stare of the Rozier eyes!  My own mother’s hazel colored eyes.  Amazing since I’d never seen them before in my life.  It turned out they were the great granddaughters of my Uncle Daniel Rozier.  On further perusal the similarities were truly amazing.  I couldn’t wait to get home and tell my mother and sister.  Sadly, I’ve never seen either of them again.

A second and really amazing coincidence occurred in Washington D.C. in 2000.  Ron and I were there for the 50^th year commemoration of the start of the Korean War.  It was such an exciting visit and there were so many perks included so I was somewhat overwhelmed by the pageantry and hype, but so glad to be there.  I truly love that city and the history and ideals it represents (or it used to).  Included in our iteniery was a special escorted trip through the Capitol building itself to areas not usually accessible to the general public.  As with everything in Washington, no matter how special the invite was, we still had to wait in a long queue to go into the building.

Not ever being one to stand idly by when I’m bored, I just started to listen to the conversation of other people in line in front and in back of us.  Suddenly I heard a name that was dear and familiar.  Brent Wood!  I listened more closely.  “He’s such a dear, and such a good speaker.”  I was absolutely mesmerized and when the words All Nations passed the woman’s lips I was stunned.  None of the group were members of our church!  But Brent Wood was our Pastor and All Nations was our church.  I just had to ask! 

A third coincidence just happened just a few years ago in Estes Park, Colorado at the Hunter’s Steakhouse Restaurant.  It was the only restaurant open after our disappointing drive to Bear Lake.  There were a ton of people there, both seated and waiting to be seated.  Ron with his usual enthusiasm (or should I call it arrogance or insensitivity?) pushed his way right up to the hostess.  Two couples tapped his shoulder and told them they were waiting in line.  Ron apologized and eventually was able to give his name to the host.  In my shy retiring way I hung back (and snickered).

In the mean time some guy who was already seated and eating, began to stare at Ronald.  Ronald commented to the other couple who were still waiting in front of us.  They all started to laugh, and engaged in a rather clandestine conversation.  Ron motioned for me to come forward.  They were laughing at the man’s staring.  The wife asked me if we had eaten there before.  They said they were new there and were from California.  I, of course, told them we were from there as well but had lived here in Colorado going on 7 years.  She wanted to know where we had lived in California and I told her West Covina for 35 years.  She broke into a big smile and said she had been born in West Covina.  The hospital was right down the street from our house.  In the excitement of talking about West Covina and the places we knew from the old neighborhood we forgot about the rude man’s staring and later went on to have a lovely dinner.  Wow!  How small is the world after all? 

Recently a young woman (Tamie) who is a member of my knitting group called me, sounding rather agitated.  Since we had spent the previous afternoon laughing hilariously together over various subjects, I was somewhat alarmed and wondered if she had been offended by something I had said.

Her first words had been, “I want to get something straight”.  Uhmmm, I thought – What did I do?”  She then proceeded to ask me a lot of questions about how long I had lived in Montrose and where I had lived previously.  When she had mentioned my name, her mother had remembered a conversation from 10 years ago with her sister-in-law who was visiting.  She was sure her sister-in-law had told her a good friend had moved to Montrose from Southern CA recently and she had forewarned her to look out for me.  She then asked me if I knew her aunt, Clara?  I was stunned for two reasons; I had known and enjoyed Clara’s company in a club we belonged to for probably 20 years, and I had just learned that she had passed away.  I then remembered that Clara had told me her brother was the Mayor of Montrose, the little town I was moving to.  That Mayor had been Tamie’s Dad!   I keep wondering, what did Clara tell them about me, that Tamie’s Mom would remember me 10 years later?  Clara knew a lot to tell from our wild nights in Anaheim and Pasadena during the 70’s.  But I thought we were all sworn to secrecy….