I grew up in an owner operator trucking family. I spent a lot of time on the road in my later teens. If I’m remembering this right, we were at a port, in or near Houston, waiting to pick up or unload. Too much eating and sleeping between now and then to get all the details straight.
I remember having to wait for what seemed an eternity, so I started walking around killing time. I walked past a guy standing close by, he was having a smoke. He acknowledged me with a hello. So I stopped and talked to him for a few minutes. He spoke broken English, yet very understandable, with a very thick Russian accent. He was a Russkie!
He seemed a few years older than me. At the time, I’m guessing I was maybe 17.
So, we’re talking, and as we, do I’m struck by the fact that this commie was as human as I was. He felt so fortunate to be standing on American soil. He was profoundly amazed to be here. He explained to me his captain allowed him to come ashore for a bit, and soak up some American air. He was damn near ecstatic about merely standing in America.
After a few minutes of conversation, he said he had to go. He could not be seen talking to me for any length of time. And we soon parted ways.
I was somewhat intrigued by that encounter. Much of my time growing up was spent dissing the damn commies, by pretty much our entire society, and here I had just met one. There was nothing unusual about him. He was very polite, and eager to speak to an American. Even me. That was a moment for me, where I slowly realized, no matter who we are, no matter what country we hail from, no matter our color or creed, we are all equally human.
That brief moment with a Russian stranger was one of those life changing paradigms, in my ways of thinking about people, even the world. I can point back to that moment in time and say, “that changed me.”
Evidence Based Reality 