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The Long and Winding Roadby George Ziemann This page last modified -- August 12, 2010 -- 12:05 a.m. The Final ChapterThe train ride back to New Orleans was relaxing and I spent most of my time by myself, just watching the country go past from my private viewing area. The solitude let me rest, let me sort out what I needed to do at the end of the journey. When I did mingle with others, each person that I dealt with seemed to have something to do with music, which only added to the "everything happens for a reason" vibe. I shared dinner with an older man from Fairbanks, Alaska, who travels the country in search of bluegrass festivals. Breakfast was with a blues/jazz festival concert promoter. Lunch was with a classical trumpet player and her husband. And there was a woman who I kept running into during the few smoke breaks that were provided, as well as some time together in the observation car, where we talked about generalities, the beauty of nature outside the train windows and just life itself. She was an older black woman, but she, too loved music and we hit it off rather well. She didn't know me at all, but seemed to see that I was on the verge of something and talking to her was sort of inspiring. I had expected that I might hear from her, but haven't so far. The train ride was long and completely relaxing. I slept well on the train, was able to take a shower before we arrived in New Orleans and felt rested and ready for the long drive back to Arizona. The most fascinating aspect of the ride actually turned out to be the final couple of hours, which took us through the backwoods of Louisiana, including the swamps and marshes. There was a National Park Service person on board who offered a lot of interesting information about the area and the wildlife, including some fascinating information about the swamps, marshes and the alligators who call it home. I learned about Spanish moss, which only can live where there is no real pollution, and had my eyes peeled for gators, since it was the time of the day when they were likely to have been sunning themselves. Saw a lot of tracks, but no gators.
Joyce picked me up at the train station, then took me on one final sightseeing leg to see an actual plantation from the 1700s, which still had a small building, detached from the actual plantation house, that had once been the slave quarters.
Joyce told me about the white things in the swamps and marshes that looked like melons floating around. They're actually a sweet fruit of some sort, called mallows. It's where marshmallows come from. Joyce fed me, and then I hit the road. Despite feeling so rested, I wasn't quite ready for a long, long, drive again. Shortly after dark, I was forced to stop at a motel and get some more rest. The next day, I drove completely across Texas, which had been my goal. I hadn't realized that by taking the southern route across, I would miss half of New Mexico. I stopped in a New Mexico information center and picked up a map. I realized that I was only a couple more hours from Arizona, which was then only a couple more hours to return to Phoenix and pick up the most important of my possessions. Thought I could make it and pushed myself too far. I had stopped at a truck stop in Lordsburg, NM and crawled into the back of the car for a while to get some sleep. When the sun came up I resumed driving. Didn't sleep enough, though. I was still too tired. At one point, I must have dozed off while driving. I suddenly found myself closing in on a semi-truck, hit the brakes hard and pulled to the side in an effort to avoid it, but I still clipped it. At 65 mph. By all rights, that should have been a fatal accident. All that happened was that the back bumper of the truck broke the plastic around my front headlight. The truck driver didn't even notice. He kept going. That kind of shook me up. I stopped somewhere and grabbed a bite to eat, considered the fact that God was watching out for me, loaded up on caffeine and finished the final leg. So what did I learn from all of this? I did learn the value of friends and family which I have put on the back burner for decades, but they didn't care. All of those people in my life still do care about me and I now know that if I am ever really in need, I can reach out and they'll be there for me. There wasn't anywhere special for me to go on a permanent basis, no place that I belonged any more than where I ended back up. I didn't find the answer to my problems or a safe haven to settle down at. But I did succeed in finding myself and recapturing that which makes me a unique and special person. That guy has been locked away for a long time and letting him back out has changed my perspective, my motivation and my outlook on life. Another thing that changed was that reconnecting with family touched off a desire to find all of the special people in my life again. I've been spending a lot of time on Facebook doing exactly that and the efforts have been very successful, not to mention emotionally rewarding on several levels. I've got a lot of friends out there. I don't want to ever forget that again. Everything does happen for a reason.
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