Early in the morning an old, well-used pickup pulls slowly into the parking lot at Rocky Point. It wheezes to a stop — a few minutes later the door creaks open and a gentleman closely resembling the vehicle eases out. He stretches to relieve the aches of age then reaches back into the cab for a bag, the kind of shoulder mounted bag I used to carry on my paper route. With bag adjusted he retrieves a long stick with a nail in the end and starts walking slowly around the park.

He’s very thorough, collecting every discarded candy wrapper, cigarette butt, beer can, whatever. An hour or so later, having cleaned the park, he deposits the collected trash into the trash bin and returns slowly to the old pickup. A few minutes later the old pickup shudders back to life and slowly leaves the park.

My hat’s off to you, sir. You aren’t doing this for money or recognition or any of the reasons that motivate the rest of us. You’re doing this simply because it needs doing. You restore my faith in humanity. You give me faith in the future. Thank you.

Kent Vandervelde

Oak Harbor