The front page story was bad enough. A house fire. One dead. It was made worse when we realized we knew the man. He was in our church and sang with my wife in the choir. An older man. Widow. Sweet and quiet. The newspaper article explained how he worked for 30 years for the city, drawing up by hand intricate maps of the underground water systems. He must have seen the world different, with the ground we walk upon as the mere top of the visible world. Some we learn only afterwards.

@dogtrax sometimes i get a little overwhelmed thinking about how many smallstories there are that i'll never hear.

@modgethanc Yep. But, you know, noticing the small is still good practice for surfacing the stories. But yeah, I agree. There are many stories of those around us that we never know, either at all or truly, fully, completely. And that's for all sorts of reasons, of course.

@dogtrax And we have to live with the shame of having their lives be unacknowledged, their work unheralded, their lives not attended to. I guess ex post facto has to be good enough. Thanks for sharing, thanks for remembering, thanks for attending. The words of "Death of a Salesman" ring out again and again:

@tellio @dogtrax the story is a reminder to pause, to look, to spend time with those around us, to learn their stories of joy and pain, to connect is not necessarily to know but it is to live and appreciate. I, too, thank you Dog for the story, for your emotion and reaction. And you Tellio for your response.

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