Some days you just can’t help but think how small the world is. I was playing golf in Bandon, Oregon a couple of weeks ago. Caddies are required, and my caddy on the third day was a fellow named Harry. Really nice guy, and we got along quite well. A few holes into the round, I started to recognize Harry’s accent as being from the South, and potentially Arkansas where most of my mother’s family is from. I asked, and sure enough he was from Little Rock.
Seeing that my mother’s family seems to know everyone in Little Rock, I took a shot in the dark and asked “Do you happen to know any of the English’s?” (my mother’s maiden name). He thought about it, and a couple minutes later said, “Well how about Trudy Baxter?”. I was kind of taken aback for a second, as that’s the name of one of my aunts. Then he goes, “Also, I went to Northeast Highschool with an Ellen English”. I couldn’t believe it, as that’s my mom. Turns out, he was the same class as my mom, was her dance partner in Westside Story, and also went to University of Arkansas in the same class (and remembered all of this). He also knew my mom’s sister Trudy quite well, even though she was a couple of years ahead.
I texted my mom asking her if she remembered Harry, and sure enough she remembered the same details as he did, including the nickname everyone at high school called Harry (“Zip”) because of his quick speed on the football field (he was their running back).
What a small world it really is.