Back on August 19, I had a blog entry complaining about what a simply awful time I had in 6th grade. I hated the town, the school, and I didn't care much for my teacher.
Well, a week later, I happened to be at the Veterans Administration Medical Center in Plains Township. While waiting my turn with my dad, I heard the "check in" person call the name of a man who happened to have the same last name as my 6th grade teacher. It's not a common name, but it isn't incredibly uncommon, either. I said to myself, "that's interesting" and I let it go.
A short time later, this gentleman and I wound up in the same section of hospital hallway. Unlike the rest of the place, it was rather quiet because it was at a dead end. I said "You have the same last name as my 6th grade teacher." I also mentioned the borough in which I went to school. The man replied "That was my uncle."
We had a short chat, in which I accentuated the positive. The nephew was very proud of his uncle's accomplishments, in education, the military, and in athletics. He lived to be 95.
Small world, as they say.