I've known this guy 'P' since I was barely five, he barely four. My grandmother was walking me home from kindergarten and he was playing with a Tonka truck in his driveway. I stopped to play and we've played together ever since.
But 'P' hasn't had much luck in his life. In school, both high school and junior high, he slept through most of his classes. I think he quit in 11th grade. They found later that he had a thyroid problem.
He worked around town at several jobs, got married twice and went through two divorces. After that, he went into depression and became an alcoholic. Over the years, he beat the alcoholism but stayed in depression for a long time. He's been on social security for many years and always will. He's been alone for about thirty years now, living in run down apartments like the duplex he lives in now. He considers himself a complete failure.
But there's another side to 'P'.
He is a superb automobile mechanic.
A car painter and sign painter.
Plumber
Electrician, took all the courses, but got no license.
Carpenter, almost all types of construction.
Heating & air conditioning.
Miner, heavy equipment.
Seamstress, owned two shoe repair shops, and he hand made boots.
He built saddles for jockeys.
He got into archery and didn't like the bowstrings you could buy so he made his own. He ended up making bowstrings for state champions.
He taught me how reload cartridges for rifles.
He's a knife maker and builds beautiful bowls on his wood lathe.
He builds motorized bicycles and owns three. He hasn't driven for over twenty years due to the alcoholism.
I've left out much. He can repair anything.
Oh, he played three musical instruments and has encyclopedic knowledge of music.
He's as good a friend as anyone could have. I believe most people in my hometown know him. They bring projects to him constantly. Mostly welding, no one does it better. Even welders bring him welding and they do favors in return.
He's one of the most completely moral people I have ever known, always thinks of others first. Twenty six years ago upon marrying my wife and telling her of his life, she was somewhat leery about meeting him. Now, she has nothing but the greatest respect. She immediately saw in him what his friends see and is amazed how he can turn a run down apartment into a very clean and livable place with a nicely kept yard.
Naturally I think of him often, his friendship, his almost unending talents, and the willingness to help with anything at any time. I can only hope I give a part in return.
What bothers me most is how he sees himself. He talks of often of his utter failure, of his worthlessness. Neither I or my wife or his wonderful daughter or his friends can make him see the good and talented side.
Success is such a fleeting and ambiguous word. It comes in many colors and flavors. When people tell me of 'successful' people, I look at them and compare them to 'P'. I look at their soul, their morality, their talent, their number of real friends and say, really, who is most successful?
Just once, before either he or I die, I'd like for him to realize he's worth something. To realize what he means to so many people. To realize he truly was successful.



