Saturday, September 11, 2010


I was pondering over the whole Henry W thing, rereading the e-mail exchange. In hindsight, I was pretty shocked to see that I clearly volunteered for this. But I did. As soon as I realized that the story might not be told, I was raising my hand (virtually speaking) and saying, "Then I will do it." I suppose that part of this is selfishness. I considered it such a story, right away, that I couldn't imagine that it would not be told. The idea of telling Henry that his story wasn't important was something that I couldn't bring myself to do. But, still, after all it was all said and done, I was sitting in the dust saying, "What happened there...."

The fact is, Henry has a remarkable remarkable story. I tell stories. So I will tell another one, just bigger than I usually see bumbling along in my normal life. Instead of describing what I see, what I think, I will be describing Henry. I will be describing what he saw, what he thinks. First person, third person. That's all. I received some very good advice from a reporter, so good I printed it out. Henry's speaking is assisted, and so formulating answers takes a while, so I'm working on a list of questions, which he will answer via e-mail. He's a very good writer himself, which also makes my job a lot, lot easier. I will have to take pictures which will be a challenge for me (BB ~ I neeeeeeeeeeed you sistah!) but I will figure a way.

Like 'The Little Engine That Could', I have gone from abject terror to breaking it down into steps. 'I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...' What provides the steam for my little engine in this case is my steadfast conviction that this is a story which deserves its telling.

I guess the story from Tractor Supply is this: I was waiting on a couple. The woman looked like someone I knew, but I was confused. It couldn't be her, because she was not with the man that she should have been with. I thought to myself, "Well, Patty must have a sister..." These are friends of Tim's, from when he was a kid, and I didn't know them all that well myself, so I wasn't surprised about the case of mistaken identity. But then the man she was with asked about Tim, and I stopped to gape. It WAS Patty, and she WAS with the man she should have been with. Doug's lost so much weight that I did not even recognize him. "Is it rude to ask how much you've lost?" I asked, and he grinned. "I've lost more than 145 pounds." "Gees, Doug. You look like a whole 'nuther person." To which he responded, "Or maybe just half of another person." Wow. Just wow. They both laughed at my shock, and we had a good little visit, rushed as it was.


quid said...

Debby -

I am full of excitement about the Henry project. I can see that you are now feeling the same.

P.S. Did you ask how he lost the 145 amazing pounds?


BB said...

Oh Deb - of COURSE you can do it. Email me and we'll talk though some ideas for the photos. Am more than happy to try and help from afar. How very exciting!!

Kelly said...

I have a friend whose husband has lost over 100 pounds. They laugh that he HAS lost a whole person! He certainly LOOKS like a different person!

jeanie said...

I think you are the right woman at the right time and place for Henry's story - looking forward to the results!!

Jayne said...

You're meant to tell Henry's story!