Small World

May, 1971, Washington, DC.  The May Day protests against the Vietnam War took place over a span of several days.  Protestors took over the city, blocked bridges, and camped out on the National Mall.

Not all protests were peaceful.  I recall one story, in particular, of a young government worker who was surrounded by angry protestors while driving across a bridge between Virginia and DC, became frightened, and accidentally (or so she said) hit the gas pedal instead of the brake, thereby running over one or more individuals.

I don’t recall how I got to work that day; since I normally took a bus from my apartment in the Maryland suburbs, I can only assume that either buses were getting through or that there weren’t any blocked bridges on the route.  Hey, it was 50 years ago; it’s a wonder I can even remember where I lived at that time!  Probably I slept through the entire ride and didn’t even know anything was going on.

In 1971, I was young, single and working for a federal alphabet agency in the heart of DC, whose agents were tasked with monitoring the protests.  Agents on the roof of the building would radio down their observations while I sat at my desk and transcribed same.  We had been instructed to stay in the building and not to even venture out at lunchtime, inasmuch as some of the protestors had chained themselves to the outside doors and were hassling staff members.  It was payday, and there were certain employees who felt it necessary to get to the bank to cash paychecks, despite the warnings.  One of my co-workers did so, only to be attacked by the mob and then wound up in the hospital with broken bones.

Heady times, indeed.  But time marches on.  The protests ceased, eventually the war ended, and things returned more or less to normal.

Fast forward about 40 years.

I was now married, with kids, had become a real estate paralegal in Buffalo, NY, and was attending a closing at the Erie County Clerk’s Office.  While waiting for the results of the title search update, the paralegal for the lender and I engaged in light chitchat.  I don’t recall how the conversation turned to 1971 and the Vietnam War, but it did.  Imagine my surprise when the bank paralegal said she had also been in DC during those protests!  I asked which agency she was working for back then – and she replied that she was not working for the government, she was, in fact, one of the protestors!

What a small world!  40 years later and nearly 400 miles away, here we were sitting at the same table trying to accomplish the same goal – close a real estate deal between our respective clients.  And neither of us looking to injure the other.  We had a good laugh and finished the work we were there to do.  Over the following years, we would often pass at the Clerk’s Office and share a small smile, but eventually we each found other jobs and lost contact with each other.

Sometimes I wonder if our paths had crossed in 1971 without either of us knowing it.  How many people do you come across each day (when it’s not a pandemic, of course), and how many might you see again 40 or 50 years later, without realizing you had met before?

Just a little food for thought on a snowy January day.  If you’ve had similar experiences, feel free to leave a comment, or a link to your story.  I’d love to hear from you.

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I love to hear from my readers. You may comment on this post, comment on my Facebook or Twitter pages, or email me at cordeliasmom2012@yahoo.com
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Image by Cordelia’s Mom/TeddyRosalieStudio

 

 

 

 

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11 Responses to Small World

  1. AmyRose🌹 says:

    We never know whom we will cross paths with, CM. Loved your story about 1971 (I was still in high school) really not paying attention to the Vietnam war at all. And here I go ending up marrying a Nam veteran. Huh. Serves me right for not paying attention back when.
    Some day soon we all will come to know how betrayed we’ve been regarding the pandemic. I will not say any more for this is your journey. I am paying no heed to the garbage being spewed out on mainstream media but instead living my life normally every day, every moment. There is such peace, a peace I’m not able to explain. You’d think with all that is supposedly happening, I’d be a wreck. I’m not. Calm and happy. We are heading into such a beautiful world. Have a great day today!! xo

    Like

    • I don’t do politics here, but for some reason my thoughts turned back to 1971. I figured it was a good story, even leaving politics out of it.

      Liked by 1 person

      • AmyRose🌹 says:

        ??? A pandemic is not politics. Yet certain people made it to be about politics. I also have something to share with you that hubby told me. When he came home from Nam and saw what the news was saying about Nam, he was shocked. He told me no way what we were being told is true. That was in the 70’s. Yep. Holds true today even more so.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Trent Lewin says:

    Amazing link, after all those years, you guys sitting down together. I wonder what people forty years from now will think about the present time.

    Like

  3. markbialczak says:

    Good thinking piece, CM. You’re right. We never know with whom we may have fleetingly brushed fates.

    Like

    • This was not an isolated incident. A couple of years after returning to Buffalo from DC, I saw a national news story about an uplift in a certain health issue. The main interviewee turned out to be a lady I used to carpool with in DC. I think there are lots of people you meet whom you later run across without realizing it. Probably even more so for people like you who have contact with the public on a daily basis.

      Like

  4. joey says:

    That is uncanny.
    I marvel that from time to time, I encounter people I dealt with professionally decades ago. They work for the same places, still. I rarely worked for 15 years and when I did, I had many different jobs, meanwhile, these people have been right where I left them. It IS a small world.

    Like

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