Eddie ~ by Mary B. Summerlin, Hyde Park, New York

Eddie and I were married for 13 years and then spent 4 years separating. Those years were – “No, we’ve had it, this is it, it’s done for good!!” Or - - “We’ve learned our lessons from now on we’ll work harder, etc, etc.etc.” The marriage was a tumultuous one. There were extraordinary highs, extraordinary lows and very little in between. My method of dealing is to forget the bad as much as possible and remember the treasured moments. This is a story about a treasured moment.

During the time we were separating, on and off, we decided to go on a summer vacation together as a family. We were both teachers and our son Jeff was 12 years old and also in school, so we all had the summer off. This was 1972. We bought an old school bus and remodeled it into a camper. We left in two rows that were right behind the driver and on the other side we took out some seats and made a table and turned two of the seats around to face the table. Down from the table was our kitchen area. We had a sink. We’d get big bottles of water for washing dishes and after the dishes were washed, you let the water drain into a bucket under the sink and then threw it away. We also carried water for drinking purposes. We had some collected old pots & pans, dish ware and glasses, and we used paper plates & cups if possible. There was a shelf for some canned goods and staples. Across from the kitchen was the bedroom. There was a loft bed (big enough for two) and beneath it were two big steamer trunks. They were our closets. The kitchen and bedroom ended about the same place and all the rest of the seats were taken out. Room was made for our three motorcycles. They could go up a ramp at the back and then be locked down inside. There was a loft bed over the motorcycles and that was Jeff’s bed. So we had all the necessities and were snug as a bug in a rug. We had the outside painted gray and an artist friend painted clouds on it and we christened it “The Silver Cloud”. I made red striped curtains for the windows and we were done and ready to take off for an adventure.

We decided to visit Mexico. We would avoid the big towns and all the tourist places. Our object was to see the real Mexico, the real people and places. We had many adventures - some wonderful and some scary. But this is not a travelogue. It’s about one treasured memory.

We had been traveling in Mexico for several weeks having a wonderful time. There were only some minor mechanical difficulties and we were very pleased with ourselves and the decision to buy the bus and make it into a camper. Then, one beautiful day our bus developed motor trouble, clutch trouble or something like that. Anyway, we had to stop by the side of the road. The Silver Cloud would go no further. So, Eddie got out his motorcycle and took off to find the nearest town and mechanics. He found a village about 10 miles away. In the yard of one of the houses four men worked on a car that was hung from a tree limb with a chain. Oh yes, they were mechanics and they were sure they could fix any problem the bus might have. Eddie came back feeling confident that yes they would come and fix the bus “in manana”. We became very familiar with that phrase. They came late afternoon and three of them crawled under the bus and after some examining and consulting and excited conversation in Spanish -- which none of us understood but it sounded ominous, they decided that they could fix it. But they would have to drop the engine and it would take days because they had other jobs to do and because an engine part was going to have to be ordered. Dropping the engine - that was a scary thought to Eddie because he was wondering if they really did know what they were doing. I didn’t even know enough to worry. So the next day they came and began unloosing nuts, bolts and screws and whatever. They did not put down a drop cloth or anything like that to make sure that no screws were lost. Eddie was really panicked now. But the guys kept working a few hours each day and always said it would be ready “manana”. The work was speeded up to some degree since Eddie took the information for the engine part they needed and went to the next big town, bought it and had it back that same day. That was much sooner than if it had been ordered - otherwise we might still be there, heaven forbid.

We were parked off the road, green grass all around, a creek running nearby and a picnic table was there. Best of all was the big shade tree. We had our own private camp ground.

One evening after the mechanics had left for the day, we saw a shepherd coming down the mountain with a herd of goats. He had a long staff and was dressed in typical everyday clothes – a poncho of many colors, a bag hanging from his shoulder to carry his lunch, white pants and a grizzled beard. I don’t know why BUT he inspired Eddie. Eddie is a professional jazz musician, saxophone is his instrument. Eddie got in the bus, got out his saxophone and began playing for the shepherd and his goats. There we are out in the middle of Mexico, no one around except us and the shepherd and his goats. Eddie, who has made records, played for movies and TV and with many well known groups is all alone in the middle of nowhere playing his heart out to goats and a shepherd on the side of a mountain. After Eddie started and played for a little bit the shepherd looked at us and doffed his hat and kept on herding his goats. Eddie played 10 – 15 minutes until the shepherd and his goats had descended down from the mountain and made a turn out of sight. Then Eddied ended his concert and put up his saxophone. We finished making a camper’s supper from whatever we could find in our pantry. We sat at the picnic table by the stream and finished our day.

Sure enough, one manana the bus was fixed and we were off to the next adventure..We traveled all the way to Guatemala.

Years have passed and Eddie has died but one of my treasured memories of our life together was that time he “played the shepherd and the goats down from the mountain” out in the middle of nowhere in Mexico.

A note from Allison and Marcia:  Mary's willingness to share this treasured memory is a gift to us all.