Hello, it’s so lovely to meet you today. Who am I, well, I suppose that is kind of an awkward question. It’s not who I am, instead, it’s what I am that is important. I am a park bench. I have been at Hyde Memorial Park for the last several decades. I wanted to express to you my enjoyment at being a park bench, for you see, due to budget constraints, cost overruns and finally people’s desire to change a beautiful park into something that conforms with an industrial nation, I am being replaced.
Before I go, however, I wanted to take a moment to tell you about my life as a park bench. I want to tell you about some of the experiences I have come across while I spent my life as a bench. I have thousands of stories to give you, but as modern times will note, I don’t have too much time left to state them all. I have chosen one for now that I think might give you an excellent example of what my career has been like.
When I was a young bench, the boards that covered my seat and back, were young and firm. They were freshly painted which when that was done, I looked fancy and unavoidable to the common man or woman. One of my earliest memories was of little Julie Dennison, she was about four years old when I first met her here. When we first met she was crying profusely. “Are you ok,” her mother asked her.
“No,” she whined back. “Bobby Mackleroy shoved me down and just look at my new dress, and my knees.” She started to cry again.
Her mother bent down and looked at her knees closely then carefully working so as to not harm her little girl any further the mother brushed the dirt, pebbles, and grass away to reveal a red, slightly green stained couple of knees. “There, there, honey, I think you’ll be fine, now.” She looked up at Julie and wiped the tears from her eyes. Then asked, “Didn’t he notice you were wearing a brand new dress? Why didn’t you tell him that you dressed up to come to the park and show him how pretty you were?”
“Mom,” she made a sour face, “Don’t you know boys don’t like pretty. Besides, I just wanted him to notice me,” she whispered, then added “but, not shove me to the ground,” She started to cry again.
“Hey, I’ll tell you what, why don’t we go home,” her mother instructed, “You can change your clothes and put on something where you can push him to the ground if you want to. You know how you two love to play in the park, chasing after one another and things like that.”
The little girl stopped crying, and she stood up hugged her mom around the waist, and said, “Yeah, let’s do that.”
Julie Dennison did go home and change her clothes, she came back to the park, and she and Bobby played all afternoon until both children’s mothers became weary while sitting on me and took their children home. Julie and Bobby continued to play for years to come, which leads me into the second part of the story.
City Parks never close; there is always someone out at all hours of the night. On this night oh, some twenty or so years later, Julie was there looking beautiful with her hair curled lightly around her head. Her beautiful red trusses flowing downward and around her shoulders. Her dress was white with soft sprinkles of pink and blue in it. Bobby Mackleroy was dressed in his army uniform he had just returned from Army boot camp and he seemed anxious.
“I am so glad you are home Bobby, I missed you so much,” she started.
“I missed you too honey,” he replied.
“How long are you home for?” she asked.
“Two weeks.”
“Just two weeks, gosh that’s not much time.”
“Let’s get married,” he blurted out.
“What? Why? Oh, Bobby, this is so sudden. I mean I always assumed we’d get married, but, do you think we should? I mean with you going away and all.”
He stood up and turned to face her, kneeled on one knee, and stated, “Julie, I learned one thing about being in the army, the world is a lot bigger than this park and this town. I don’t know what it holds for me, but I’ve always known I wanted you to be a part of it. Please marry me.” He took out a small black velvet-covered box and inside was a beautiful diamond ring and he let her gaze at it.
“Yes, oh yes, Bobby,” she exploded with emotion as tears streaked down her face.
Now, I’m a park bench, not a gossip, but I do know they did marry, they eloped, and he went off to fight in a war. Most of what I am telling you was not information from Julie, Bobby, or their family, but from the other busybodies who would stop and discuss town matters on a lazy Saturday afternoon.
She immediately had one child, a girl. She had just delivered that beautiful baby girl when Bobby came home on leave and she became pregnant again and had another girl. It was two years after this one was born when Bobby came home and Julie finally gave birth to their boy, which leads me into my next story.
Spring is a wonderful time of year, I had received another fresh coat of paint, and I was looking good if I do say so myself. Julie was sitting on the bench holding tightly to Robert Junior when she exclaimed. “I’m on birth control, Bobby, I can no longer take being basically a single mother. Look at me, barely 24 years old, I have three children, I never see you, you’re always gone, and honey, I know your at war, but we are at war here too, we are trying to survive. If something were to happen to you…”
“I know baby, this is my last tour over there, I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll make things right, I will.” She smiled at his statement, and they kissed, but that wasn’t how things turned out. Bobby was killed in his last tour, now, Julie was all alone. All her attention now had turned to the survival of her family.
I did not see her for the longest time. Years passed, and she worked as a waitress just across the way there, at Max’s Café. Slinging coffee, earning tips, and keeping her household together. Every once and a while she’d stop by take off her shoes and run her feet in the grass then she lean back on me or even lie down, eventually, she would start to cry. I would try to console her, but what could I do I was just a bench.
Days turned to weeks, weeks turned into months, and months into years. Her kids became older and grew up and eventually she was alone, again, which leads me to the next part of my story.
“Oh, no, George, I just couldn’t. I am too old to get married,” Julie insisted. “Let’s just live together, that’s all the rage today.”
“Why didn’t you say something earlier, you would have been gladly appreciated,” she asked.
“I don’t want to just live together,” George demanded. George was sixty – three years old and had the features of a man his age. The small potbelly, his hair was grey, close to white, and his facial features were wrinkled as well as his hands. “I have loved you since we were young, but it was always Bobby for you. I didn’t want to get in the way, or cause problems, so that day when you walked into Dad’s café, well, to say I was the happiest man in the world, is an understatement.
“Bobby, was one in a million, heck, I liked him too, all the things that were said about him after he died, well, I couldn’t ever live up to that. Now, though, well your kids have always known about my feelings for you. You’re the only one who never noticed.” He looked nervously down at his hands until she took one of his into both of hers.
“You silly old man, if that’s what you want, then yes, I’ll marry you,” she leaned over and kissed him like the thousands of other kisses she gave him while they were together.
Guess what? I had a facelift!! Well, sort of, at least I call it a facelift. Park curators sanded all my metal parts, replaced all the old boards with new ones, and painted me a bright green. George bought a special board to put on the top of me that had an inscription. It read, “In honor of my Julie, my precious gift, my love, my life.”
George and Julie continued to run the café for many years, but finally, they retired and the only time I saw Julie and George was when they brought their grandchildren to the park to play. But after a time the grandchildren outgrew coming with their parents and came by themselves.
I hadn’t seen Julie for many, many years, and then just the other day this elderly woman slowly, with the help of a cane walked up and sat on me. My boards weren’t as strong as years past, therefore, they bowed in the middle, but she was safe because she was sitting on me. “Hello old friend,” Julie said softly to me. “It sure is good to see you. I’m all alone again, George is gone, but I’m still here. I still have all my kids and more grandkids since I last sat here. I also have great grandchildren as well. I’m just going to sit here one last time and just reminisce about all the good times I’ve spent in this park.”
She spent several moments being quiet until she finally said, “I read in the paper the other day, that they are going to pave this portion of the park and they are removing all of the fences, shrubs the old-fashioned lights, and finally the benches. I feel like you are an old friend, almost family, I sure am going to miss you. I was wondering, I have an extremely large backyard where I live. I wanted to know if you would mind if I bought you from the city and put you in my backyard and made you a part of my family?”
Mind, of course, I wouldn’t mind. I would be around kids and people who actually like me being there. I’ve got a new lease on life I am such a lucky bench. Julie stood up and turned and smiled at me and said, “See you in a few days, ole friend.”
Hey, guess what? I’m moving. To a place with a house and a backyard, whatever that is, I will be able to sit in the sun, rain, and all sorts of weather. I know they will clean me up and make me shine. I won’t have to worry about being thrown away any more. Hey, if you’re ever in our neighborhood, stop by, sit a spell, and maybe if you’re good, I’ll tell you another story.
MUH!!
