I wrote about Mr. Gatch last year. Today I saw the sign in his yard. The first magic oranges of the season are available. He wasn't home when I arrived, but pulled into the drive shortly after. When he found out that I wanted 3 half bushels of oranges, he asked if I could come back near sundown. Of course, I agreed. Then an hour or so later I received a call.
"Mrs. Carter?"
"Yes."
"This is the orange man. Willard."
"Hello, Mr. Gatch."
"I got your oranges ready."
"Okay, I 'll be right over."
Today, Willard Gatch, who was born in 1912, precariously placed his rickety old ladder against his orange trees and picked about 150 oranges for me. He is my hero!
4 comments:
Wow! What a neat story!
He sounds alot like my grandpa. He was ninety-two and still watering his fields. People would always ask him why he didn't slow down and he would reply, "there is still work to do."
The story left me wondering what are you going to do with 150 oranges?
Are they really really yummy...maybe we'll have to give Mr. Gatch a drive by.
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