The Distance: Old Poet Wisdom

By George H. Clowers, Jr.

As we age we have those golden memories, if we can remember them! Stories about the journey to forever! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: George H. Clowers, Jr.
• Release date: May 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224983353

George H. Clowers, Jr.

Retired substance use disorder counselor.

Book preview

Dedicated to Yes we can.

CONTENTS

The Canvas

A Burial

The Distance

Tough Enough

Yesterday and Tomorrow

After Ten and Six

THE CANVAS

Hidden From Shallow Glances

Watercolor by Deborah A. Clowers

I knew it was a longshot, and I probably should not have used the social media platform to find him, but I hoped I would. I wanted to know what happened to him and his wife, after I left college during our third year. We had spent a lot of good time together, before my addiction took over again. It was one of the best years of my life and I wanted to thank him for the time we spent together.

I was surprised when the response came, and he was curious as to who I was and why I had reached out to him. He was near death from an incurable form of cancer and didn’t have time to waste. He said he would call the number I provided within two days, and he did.

Hello, this is Henry Fowler, may I help you? I answered, not recognizing the voice, or posted number on the phone’s screen.

Yes, a weak, gravelly voice answered. This is Clarence Harvey, you reached out to me.

Hey, Clarence! I thought, excitedly, but was more measured in my response. Yes, thank you for calling me back, Clarence. I want to take you back forty-six years and State College of Georgia.

Yes, I attended State back in the seventies. Did we graduate together? he asked.

No, but during sophomore year we spent a lot of time together, you and your wife Cheryl. I’m Henry, Henry Fowler.

Your name is not familiar; how have you been? he asked.

Fine. I’ve had a great work career and am retired now two years and have time to reflect on my past life, and I’ve thought about you and Cheryl a good bit.

Cheryl, yes, I remember Cheryl. She was a good woman, raised our three daughters. I haven’t... his voice trailed off. So you say we spent a lot of time together, what did we do? he asks.

Did you ever enlist in the armed services and become a pilot? I asked, remembering one of our last talks.

Yes, I did, used to fly planes all over.

Did you retire from the military? I asked him.

No, about ten years then I went into business.

You were a reader for a church organization, and I attended services and lectures with you and Cheryl, I interject into the conversation.

Church, yes, I did, or was and still am. Yes, I still go to church. Do you go to church? he asked.

And that house you all had in Candler Park, small but I remember it was nice for college students with a small baby. I think you are about two years older than I am.

You seem to know a lot. Who are you again? he asks.

Now I’m thinking this really was a bad idea until I hear a woman’s voice in the background.

Clarence darling, it’s about time to go, she says.

Okay dear, he says to her. Excuse me sir, it’s been nice talking to you, have a good day, he says to me and ends the call.

*

About two weeks later, while out walking through my neighborhood, and basically having forgotten about the call to Clarence my mobile phone rings. It was him.

Mr. Fowler, this is Clarence Harvey, and we spoke last week or thereabouts, how are you today?

I’m having a good day so far, just out for a stroll through the neighborhood, I respond.

Good, look, it took a few days, and Cheryl was able to refresh what memory I have left, and I remember you now, he says. Do you have a few moments to talk and catch up? Those were good times.

Thanks for calling me, and I do have time to talk.

"Good. All right, so, you’re African American, tall, handsome as I remember, very smart, and an interest in poetry. And yes, I remember you came to my church, and we all attended lectures around the city, you, Cheryl, and I. She told me that.