With All, Doooo Respect...

An important message wrapped up in a conversation with a stranger.

About 10 years ago, it’s possible I had the most interesting conversation of my life, and yes, it was with a stranger. Some know this story as it appears in my first book — though it has gained considerable importance over the years. Lately, I’ve been reminded of this stranger who was anything but strange, and it could be to share their wisdom further. After reading this, you may understand why.

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On a trip to Yosemite National Park, my companion had to make a phone call in the middle of our first day. The village at the center of the park was the only location where you could use your mobile device, so that’s where we ended up. I decided to walk around the village, maybe get a drink or something while I waited. Strangely enough, you can actually buy one beer in Yosemite at the market in the village. Who knew? I bought a Sierra Nevada (which seemed appropriate) and wandered outside to find a place to sit to do some people-watching.

I looked at all the benches, and they all had people sitting at them. There was one bench that I could sit at, but it did have another person there, and being a mildly introverted person that looked pretty full to me. But, I ended up approaching that bench anyway and saw it was an elderly man of a dark complexion, holding a cane, and talking on his phone. I didn’t want to interrupt but when he saw me approach he lowered the phone and gestured, “Can I help you?”

“Anyone sitting there?” I whispered.

“You are,” he claimed, and after a short pause he added, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

At the time I didn’t think much of the gravity of this statement. I simply thought it was a joke, but after our conversation, I wasn’t so sure. My bench sidekick went back to talking on his phone. It sounded like he was talking to a son or daughter. I wasn’t eavesdropping, just sounded like he was, and it was impossible to tune it out. After some idle small talk, he ended the call and turned to me.

“Kids are wonderful. You got any children?” he asked.

“Kinda. I have a Dog.” It’s how I usually answered this question, and he seemed pleased with my response.

“Ahhh, so you are a caring individual. Then you understand what it’s like to be responsible for another being. Good, glad we understand each other. What brings you to Yosemite?”

I went into the whole story of where I was from, and why I was there. He listened intently, and I felt like he truly cared. I asked him in return where he was from and he responded with quite a bit more than just that, in just a few minutes. Where he was from, about his first wife, about his career, about his children, and how much they meant to him. Then he spoke of his second wife.

“I’m out here with her and a group of travelers. They hiked up to a point where you could see Yosemite Falls. As you can see, I can’t really do any hiking”, as he lifted his cane, “Yeah, just left me here on this bench...that was 4 years ago!”

I reacted quickly to this statement, almost giving myself whiplash, as I looked at him wide-eyed. He was looking off into the distance, slowly turned to me, and said, “Gotcha!”

“Oh man, I was going to say. Ha! That’s hilarious. I need to use that someday,” I bellowed.

“You’re welcome to it. I definitely borrowed that from someone else, I’m sure,” he said.

He asked more about kids and family and I think he could tell that I wasn’t giving anything up in that category. He probably started to pick up on something when he finally asked, “Do you know what the secret to life is?”

At this point I was so engulfed in the conversation, I almost didn’t answer.

“Oh, I have some ideas on the subject, but I’d love to hear your secret,” I remarked.

“Well, the secret to life is very simple. It’s actually one word. And we already touched on it earlier in our conversation.” He paused slightly, I believe for a little dramatic effect.

“It’s respect,” he said. “In every situation in life, it all comes down to respect. Respect for your parents who raised you. Respect for your children to be the individuals they want to be. Respect for another’s religion. Respect for someone’s nationality. For their lifestyle. For the color of their skin.”

He paused and looked at his watch. Although there were hundreds of people nearby, it seemed like we were the only ones in the park. Everything else just faded away. Then he added, “Respect, my friend. It’s not just some Aretha Franklin tune.” He nodded at me again, with a wink.

He went on to tell me more about how our leaders could have more respect for other countries. How any relationship needed to be based on respect. Our conversation ventured into several other topics as we waited. Some of the topics were trivial and good-hearted. We eventually met up with our companions, or they met up with us. We exchanged a few words at that point and eventually parted ways.

That conversation truly changed how I view people. It changed how I view a lot of things, really. I could have sat anywhere in the park at that point but I decided to sit on that bench. I was meant to sit there. It was a beautiful day that I will always remember...and when I do, it grounds me.

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I remember this gentleman said he was a retired professor, though the actual university he worked at is lost to wherever lost memories go. I hope his words hit others in a similar way they hit me. Please pass this along if you feel called to do so.

Peace, Love, and Happiness. ✌️❤️😀