The People I Have Met

On Thursday my flight from Denver, headed to Bozeman, was diverted to Billings. The crew told us we would refuel and wait for the weather around Bozeman to clear, then continue on, but it was not true. I knew from my children who were in Bozeman that the problem was fog, which lifted once the sun went down, but I think if the airline blames weather when a flight is cancelled they aren’t responsible for refunds. The ruse is easy to spot, but impossible to dispute.

I noticed that the man sitting quietly beside me on the flight was not the least bit ruffled by this change in plans. All around us people were losing their cool, but my seatmate just kept watching his movie, doing something on his iPhone—probably booking a rental car or a hotel. I appreciated his calm demeanor, after all, what can you do?

My kids decided they would make the two-hour drive to pick me up, so I offered a ride to the man sitting beside me and he gratefully accepted. We introduced ourselves, promptly forgot each others’ names and began de-planing. Ten minutes previously we were strangers, destined to leave the plane, go our separate ways and probably never see each other again. Now we were becoming friends. Friendly.

We had some time to kill, so we decided to leave the airport, venture into Billings and get some dinner. My new friend found a place to eat, summoned an Uber and off we went.

We began to reveal parts of our lives: he was heading to Bozeman for a meeting, then back to Denver, where he grew up, then on to LA, where he had a home. He had spent the bulk of his career in federal law enforcement: tracking and arresting animal and plant traffickers. He had done his work in urban areas in the US and in a couple of countries in Africa. I was meeting someone whose life’s passion was completely foreign and fascinating to me; I had a thousand questions.

The kids arrived and off we went, with two more hours to share our life stories. It was terrific. Ed was a truly lovely human being with a clear ethos of caring for animals, humans and the planet. A simple man, calm and polite. I listened with pride as my kids told their stories when Ed asked meaningful questions. By the time we got to his hotel in Bozeman it was hugs all around and hopes he and his home in LA would be safe.

Ed.

A frustrating travel situation ended in such a lovely way, with the kids and I meeting someone whose life was completely unknown to us. By the end of our time together Coco was contemplating a life as a Federal Agent, saving the sea turtles and butterflies. Ed’s company, our unexpected encounter, enriched our lives.

On Saturday the kids and I traveled to Manhattan, Montana, a short drive from Bozeman, to meet Lester, ‘Bud’ Griffith, whose brother and sister-in-law I knew from living and working in southern Vermont. They had told me about Bud, the incredible story of his life as a cowboy rancher in Montana, which began right after he graduated from our local high school, Burr and Burton Academy, in 1956.

Bud greeted us and got right to it with the stories: being on an Oprah episode about people with the best jobs in America; singing Springtime in the Rockies with John Denver; working for Ted Turner and Jane Fonda for many years as the manager of their ranch. He taught us the meaning of the word cowboying, and what it means to be a real cowboy. He showed us his cowboy art, talked about his Native American friends and he sang us two songs and played the guitar. Bud was humble and kind and deeply grateful for the life he’s led. He told us about his time spent with Jimmy Carter and about his best friend who taught him roping and riding skills. This farmboy from Vermont had lived a rich and rewarding life in the west, caring for the land and the animals and the people there.

Bud.

An American treasure, polite and gracious. A new friend.

I know the world is a mess and many of us are worried about the days ahead. I know many of us are truly suffering from devastating loss. I know life is hard and tiring.

But I also know, firsthand, that the world is filled with beautiful humans, kind humans, people who care about their work, about other people. People who say thank you, People who appreciate acts of generosity.

I know my life has been filled with these people and I know that a big part of knowing this is in taking the time to ask questions and truly listen to peoples’ stories. We are, indeed, losing parts of ourselves to our technology, to our addictions to our phones, iPads and laptops, but we don’t have to. We are surrounded, all the time, by humans with great stories. Inspiring stories. True wealth. Please don’t forget that this is our treasure.

Bud and his pal, Duchess, in earlier years, a photo from his induction into the Cowboy Hall of Fame in 2018.