I kicked up leaves with my boots as I hustled toward the courthouse. If I hurried, I could then run to the bank, then race back to the office before --
"Ma'am? Ma'am, over here!"
I turned to find two silver-haired men standing at Soldier's Fountain in the center of Bentonville square, with one tall drink of water waving an arm around like he was riding an imaginary bronco.
"Ma'am, over here! Would you take our picture?"
"Well, uh, sure, I --"
"Oh, thank you! You see, we went to school here. We graduated and --"
"Wow, would you look at that, that wasn't here either! I hardly recognize this place!"
The two men enthusiastically talked over one another, telling me about the times they shared decades ago when both they and Bentonville were younger.
"I'm Lisa," I smiled, returning the camera and extending a hand. "And who might y'all be?"
"Peter Gunn," Peter said, shaking hands.
"And I'm, well, they call me Tex, Tex Cooper. And I got that nickname right over there at that high school," he said, pointing slightly toward the northwest.
"Well, that's not the high school anymore," I said, pointing southeasterly. "The high school's down on J Street now. Er, one of them is, anyway. We have two high schools. The other's out by Centerton."
"Are you kidding? But the stadium and track, is it --"
"The stadium's on J Street, too, and it's a good bit different than the one you'd remember on Tiger Boulevard," I said.
"What happened to the old high school?" Peter asked.
"It's still Old High, just Old High Middle School now."
"It was our first day of high school, and I wore my boots to class," Tex said. "I stepped one foot onto that gymnasium floor with those boots and I heard a voice --"
"It was Coach!" Peter chuckled.
"Yep! Coach hollered, 'Hey, Tex, those boots better not be on MY floor!' And from that day on, I was 'Tex.'"
Their laughter was infectious. Gold and red leaves rained on us as we stood there, discussing the once-was and now-is of our town.
Autumn can be an especially nostalgic time for folks. Researchers have discovered that nostalgia actually changes our brains, and that those who connect their present and past selves are often more empathetic, resilient, stronger in their sense of self, less anxious, more connected with others and more positive in general than their less-reflective counterparts. Now, brooding about bad times and old regrets or trying to stay in some idealized world of yesteryear -- that'll jar your preserves and lead to nowhere good. But letting a song, smell or jaunt with an old friend remind you who you were and who you've become can be a beautiful thing.
"I best be on my way," I said. "Thank you for allowing me a walk down your memory lane."
I sauntered toward the courthouse, the voices of the two men fading in the distance. My boots hit the tile floor and I smiled, now hearing the words of a coach I never met live on in the ear of a girl he never knew ... all because someone remembered.
NAN Our Town on 11/15/2018