He was skinny. That was the first thing anyone noticed about him. But he was a friendly sort whose campaign trail meandered in and out the cars in the Ingles parking lot. He greeted everyone with a humorous smile.
“Hey, there, how y’all doin’ this mornin’?” That’s how everyone greets everyone else in the Ingles parking lot in this little town.
His tweed-colored coat, black, brown, gray, was a little thin, a little tattered. But his look was honest. He’d look you in the eye and you knew, here was an honest politician. He could brush against the rich and the poor alike and shake hands with young and old. There was no duplicity here, no hypocrisy. He was interested in everyone. And you just knew that he would never change, even if he became mayor; he’d never be uppity. He was intrinsically humble. What you see is what you get, his aura whispered.
He didn’t seem to understand about personal space. He’d always get real close to you. You could tell he was interested in you, and his look told you that he’d remember you the next time he saw you. Now, there’s a feel-good response not many politicians enjoy.
He had doughnuts and coffee at Ingles with the construction crews in the morning. He stopped by Rosie’s Café for a burger at lunch. At supper he’d meander over to Jimmy Mac’s Grill and spread some more cheer and catch the latest news.
Winter was coming on, and some of his friends in the shopping center were getting curious about him. Where did he live? Did anyone know? How’d he get here each day? Had he walked far? So his friends at the realty and the dry cleaners began making some investigative inquiries and discovered that he was homeless. He was staying in an abandoned car across the highway from the parking lot.
That’s a terrifying word, isn’t it, homeless? But, the truth be told, everyone of us is but one pay check, one crisis away from a food box at the community pantry. He needed help.
The realtors offered him their sofa to sleep at night. They brought a pillow and blanket, left the heat on at night, and he was off to breakfast at Ingles before their morning clients arrived.
When it was discovered that he walked to the Methodist Church for brunch on Sundays, one of the merchants provided him with a bright orange vest. He wore it over his thin coat for extra warmth, but it also provided him a degree of safety as he hiked up and down U.S. 64.
One particularly nasty day he had sleet in his hair and his feet were caked with mud. Nancy at the realty office couldn’t take any more. She invited him to go home with her. He was astonished at the generous invitation and wasn’t even sure he should get into her car with his muddy feet.
Nancy’s family was intrigued by the happy-go-lucky guest, and Nancy was a good cook and hostess. She understood his pride; everyone needs a job. She had some things he could do for her, and having him in the house offered a measure of protection for her, a single woman. Oscar was pleased to be earning his keep, and he happily stayed on as a member of the family. He’s still skinny, though he eats steak, mashed potatoes, stew, lasagna and everything else Nancy fixes for him. And he looks after things for her when she’s working. He has a job.
Some of us were sitting around the Village Green last week reminiscing about Oscar campaigning in the parking lot in his prime. Our little town has never held a mayoral election, but everyone knew that if we did, Oscar would have won hands down. Everyone in town goes to that parking lot, and Oscar knew everyone. He was grass roots all the way! When he touched you and looked at you, you just knew he was going to remember you; and he did. And everyone knew that for Oscar, it was more than just garnering votes. He understood friendship, loyalty.
A lot of things have changed in Ingles parking lot since Oscar was there, but there’s one thing that, sadly, will never change. There will always be a homeless, hungry Oscar needing help. He was special, that ol’ politician. Honest and true, through and through, he made a lot of friends. I guess he was just about the luckiest German Shepherd Dog that ever crossed Ingles parking lot.
About Deanna K. Klingel:
Deanna lives in western NC with her husband and two golden retrievers who are co-authors of Just for the Moment: The Remarkable Gift of the Therapy Dog, available at bookstores in September. Deanna and Dave have seven children and ten grandchildren.
__________
Stay connected with Facebook or Twitter.
You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
73 Responses to “The Mayor of Ingles’ Parking Lot”
« Older Comments « Older CommentsLeave a Reply
Welcome to Scinti
Scinti is where we share our stories on life, add a spark to someone’s day, and make a difference in someone’s life.
Awwww. Oscar is wonderful! I hope he had a long and happy life with his new family and all his friends.
Great story Deanna, I’m a cat lover but enjoyed it none the less, you make the TRHS Class of 1961 very proud.
Deanna,
Wonderful, wonderful story. Congratulations!
Donna & Cam Higgins
Deanna,
Great story…. Bravo! Congrats!
Darling story. Children would love this story, especially after visiting Cashiers.
Great story, Children would love this especially after visiting Cashiers.
This very insightful account Oscar and how many lives he
touched on a daily basis is a great lesson in “humanity”
to all of us.
Cute story Tammy. Your surprise ending…that Oscar was a homeless dog…created an emotional shift at the end. Clever!
Deanna was born with a sense of unique creativeness in every single thing she ever attempted, always forcing you to see beauty and compassion in the simple everyday things we all encounter. This lovely and authentic story is just an example. GREAT story, I love it!
What a wonderful and heart-warming story. I wish I could’ve met Oscar, but know he is happier now.
I love the story. It is well written. I like how the reader is led to think Oscar is a homeless man instead it was about a dog.
This is such a wonderful Story Mrs. K
I wish you the best of luck and glad to see you all are doing well!!!
love
Rachel Clegg
What an awesome story. I hope to see more by this writer!!!
What a total thrill, as a dog lover to have been in love with the ‘politician’ that so many of us remember well. Good job, Deanna
Great story. I had the fortunate opportunity to know Oscar. He was in fact the Mayor and recognized me every time I shopped at Ingles. He would patiently wait by my car as I loaded my groceries in from the cart knowing that I would certainly have a treat for him. He was right, I always remembered Oscar and he always remembered me.
Deanna, thank you for telling the story of a truly remarkable dog or should I say diplomat.
What a wonderful story with a surprise ending!! In my mind he was a thin, tall, man with twinkly eyes. I loved the last sentence. We all need to be on the lookout to help those less fortunate that ourselves, be they 2 or 4 legged!! Thanks Deanna for leaving me with a warm, fuzzy
What a surprising ending, Most people would think Oscar was a man. Very warm and touching.
I wish there was a litlle Oscar in all of us!!
Great story!!
Great story, Deanna! I wanted to read more??? Is there more? Maybe???
Beautiful story. A real tear jerker because every word of it is true.
Great story! I wish that I had met the ‘Mayor’.
Deanna — Loved the lead, pull in and then — Oscar.
You make the Royal Scribblers proud!
I, too, had the privilege of knowing Oscar. I loved the way he would con the tourists by looking sad, starving and forlorn. They would purchase a bowl at the Dollar Store and a can of dog food at Ingles (the good kind with the flip-top). The Ingles deli gals would feed him ends of roast beef, ham, cheese, etc. Yes, Oscar ate well! But he still always looked skinny and ragged. Oscar was mute, the result of being hit by a car, the story goes.