Eric Payne

I have always just loved certain aspects of history, Surfer... plus growing up where I did in Pennsylvania, when the class at our elementary, Jr. High, or high school had a "day-trip" or a field trip, it was always either to Philadelphia, Gettysburg or Washington, DC... and can't go to any of those places and not be exposed to a little bit of history.

Actually, funny thing... this past summer we were in DC. Killing time before out twilight tour at CapitalSeg, Bill and I did a little bit of our own tourist thing... grabbing a cab and going out to the Titanic Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial. Bill has sciatica, and just couldn't take the steps of the Lincoln memorial.

I should also say: Washington was a side-trip from our Philadelphia vacation. We were vacationing in Philly solely because the stage musical "Wicked" was performing there on August 17th... which was my 48th birthday, and my sister Karen's 49th birthday. As a surprise, last August, Bill booked our vacation there (knowing I grew up somewhere in the area) and bought third-row, center tickets for me, him, Karen, and whomever Karen wished to bring. It was the first time in 30 years Karen and I celebrated our birthday together; she drove in from her home just north of Wilkes-Barre, and brought her daughter... who, the last time I saw her, was riding around on my shoulders and just barely speaking, and is now 28, and been married for three years.

So... Bill couldn't take the steps of the Lincoln; he stayed at ground level while I went up with the camera, went inside, and took some pictures. Coming out and down the steps, I also had to rest, so I stopped where I could get a beautiful picture of the Reflecting Pool, Washington Monument and Capitol building. I raised the cam and snapped the pic; there was a guy standing beside me who, I thought, was also taking a picture.

I lowered the camera and that gentleman on my right turned to me. "Is your name Payne," he said. I told him it was. "Eric Payne?" he asked. I said yes. He stuck out his hand and said: "I thought that was you. You probably don't remember me, but I'm..." someone I used to pick up every day and drive to school (we both lived way out in the country -15 miles from the school - and driving, instead of taking the bus meant we could sleep in an extra 90 minutes in the morning).

Turned out, though he had never left the area, he was in Washington with a church group, and recognized me through a physical birth defect I have. It also turns out that weekend was my graduating class' 30th reunion.

I declined the invitation to attend, though... Wicked was much, much more fun!

Anyway... it's all contributing factors. Because of the heart, and because of that physical birth defect, I wasn't really active in a lot of after school activities; the birth defect? Well, to put it bluntly, it's not debilitating in any way... I just don't have a neck. My head, literally, sits on my shoulders. For those old enough, think Ed Sullivan... though his was just bad posture.

So... I read. And read. And read. Books. Magazines. Newspapers. Comic books. Religious pamphlets. The Bible. The Book of Mormon. Biographies. Autobiographies.

And I don't forget much I've read. For instance just a few days ago in a posting, I told someone in Florida to do some basic research on their own, that that was the only way they were going to start to believe what I was talking about in that forum, and ended with the admonition I was not going to be his "personal Anne Sullivan." It didn't strike me until later, when I was asked by someone privately what I meant, that not everyone was going to know the Helen Keller story. I knew because, decades and decades ago, I read "The Miracle Worker," and it's always stuck with me.