Inspiration

Inspiration has come to me in many forms. I've acquired vast amounts of inspiration from many people that I have encountered in my life, and my only hope is to publish who they are in order to pay my debt of gratitude. The first man was an elderly neighbor, new to the subdivision. He and his wife were retried jewelers who were quick to invite you in, and to have as many cookies with milk you could possibly stomach.

The bit of inspiration that I acquired from Rudy was that he was a humble, yet severe man. He was alive during our second World War, and he refused to let anyway repeat those same mistakes that led us to the brink of annihilation.

When I was about 12 years old, my father bought me a pellet gun. I used to hunt any kind of bird that lived, and a squirrel if I did well enough.  Rudy would often tell me, "Hermie, you're lucky that those birds don't shoot back."  And, one time my friend Nick and I were playing in my driveway when I shot my gun-accident or otherwise-towards Rudy's house, sending it careening into his front picture window.

My friend and I sat for what seemed like hours, trying to decide how we were going to make it out of this one alive. In one short instant, I walked over to Rudy's house, knocked on his door, and told him that I shot his front window. Rudy looked me up and down and said, "Hermie, it's one thing to make a mistake. But it is completely different when you admit to the mistake you made. You just grew a few years older in my eyes, you probably have a little peach fuzz growing down there."

I will remember that moment until my dying day. Confronted with the first memorable moment to act in a way depicting responsibility and honesty began with a stupid child's impulsiveness. I overcame my childhood in short order.