Articles by Mary

“Like a rock. I was strong as I could be.”
Remember Bob Seger? I enjoyed his music in the 70’s and 80’s. His style, his lyrics, he found the right combination for millions of us. Back then, I felt like I ‘got’ the meaning of the lyrics, it is now I am relating to them in a deeper way. Yeah, what thirty+ years will do, eh? Kids, jobs, betrayals, mistakes, accomplishments, moves, spouse(s), adventures, lessons learned, opportunities lost, learning to live with gratitude.
“20 years. Where’d they go? I sit and wonder where they’ve gone.”

You, too?

Bob is 77 now. I found my copy of his “Greatest Hits” CD from 1994, which got me hearing the lyrics of several of the songs in an up-close-and-personal way. And think of some of the people in my past.

I wonder where many of them are now.
In first grade, there was this sweet kid in Ms. Winans’ class with me, Neil Gibbs. His family moved away at the beginning of second grade. He was so kind to me, little Miss Not-sure-what-to-do. I have often wondered how and where he is.
“I’m older now but still running against the wind.”

Mario Taveri. My boyfriend when I lived in Brindisi, Italy. Lots of stories from that year, o la la. I was twenty-three and naïve. He was thirty-six, or so… He got me a job in the ticket agency where he worked part-time which sold tickets for the ferry boats to Greece. Backpack and all, I had gotten off the train in Brindisi to catch the boat to Corfu and Piraeus, Greece. He and several other men were latching on to us tourists as we stepped onto the depot platform. No missing that all of us were tourists and many Americans. After a short time working there, I too, learned to tell what country a traveler was from just by seeing and hearing them for a minute or two.

Mario proceeded to tell me the boat workers were on strike and no boat that evening. Did I know where to have dinner? “No,” I shook my head. He knew a great place. “Okay,” I said. Off we went. My first calamari. Wonderfully delicious.
I found out later there was no strike, he had ulterior motives.
I didn’t make it to Athens for some months, and then it was a work trip, related to moving part of the ticket agency owner’s furnishings. I got a good look at the Parthenon as we drove by. “I was livin’ to run and runnin’ to live.”

Stories. There was the young, slim Mid-Eastern man with a bodyguard. He was trafficking men from the Mid-East up to work in Europe who had no papers or passports. His bodyguard was built like Joe Greene or Dick Butkus and carried a wad of $100 U.S. dollar bills bigger that his fist. There was the Scottish woman, Anne, living there with her boyfriend, Gianni. He was no more faithful to her than a mosquito, I didn’t know why she stayed. She missed her family and home in Penrith.
There was the trio from southern France: Helene, Michel, her husband, Camille, Helene’s sister, approximately late 20’s in age. They were traveling in a van. They stayed a couple nights in Brindisi, which has historical significance: the Appian Way ends in Brindisi, Spartacus was captured near Brindisi, Cicero visited regularly, and the poet Virgil died in Brindisi. Lots to see.
One afternoon, I am coming back with a latte’, when I see Mario coming to the agency from one end of the block and Helene from the other. I knew in that second what they’d been doing the last couple hours.
Mario made a big fuss about getting me a calzone to go with my latte’. I just looked at him.
About an hour later, I heard cries and whacks from the back room. I opened the door to investigate. Mario said, “Stop. You might get hurt.” However, I saw Michel kicking Camille as she lay on the floor, trying to protect herself. I rushed in, yelled at him to stop. He looked at me, kicked her again, and stomped out to the front office.
I helped Camille wash her face, put some ice on her bruises, and sat with her awhile. Where was Helene?

Then early that evening, the three of them got in the van and drove down to the ferry dock, smiling and waving at Mario and I as we stood on the sidewalk and watched them go. As they were leaving, Camille gave me a long hug. “Remember me,” she said and pressed a small jade heart pendant in my hand, kissed me on both cheeks, and got in the van.

I would love to know what happened to Camille and where she is today. And Mario. And Neil. And Anne.
“Like a rock. I see myself again.”

Thank you for reading~
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