Today I spent about 5 hours driving for Lyft. It was perfect. Most of the day with on and off rain, and I’ve learned that this is good for business. Most people don’t want to walk through the rain all the way to the bus or train stop- they’d rather have someone come pick them up at their front door, naturally. I pretty much kept busy- right when I’d drop someone off, I’d drive about half a block before the next pick up would come in. It was great.
Here’s a road story for you: The first is a gentleman I picked up was a guy named Ricky, who is of Native American decent. I asked the standard question: Are you originally from here? He replied that he wasn’t- he grew up in Arizona. I smiled and told him that I was also originally from Arizona. I asked him where, and he told me that he was from White River on the White Mountain Apache reservation. I got excited and asked him if he’d ever met a girl called Linda Sue (I’m withholding her last name).
Before I was born, when my family lived in southern California, my parents acted as foster parents to a little girl- Linda Sue. Back then, the church had what was called the Indian Placement Program. This placed these young kids (who volunteered for the program) in homes where the church was strong. The hope was that these kids would return home from these stronger Christian homes at the end of the school year, and this would influence their lives for the better in the future.
Anyway, we played the name game and Ricky things that he may know Linda Sue’s family. He recognized that last name but told me that he left the reservation when he was rather young, so he wasn’t 100% sure. Every once in awhile I’m reminded that it’s a small, small world.
Someday, I hope to meet Linda Sue. My sister Lori told me that she’d like to drive down and find her as well. Maybe we could go together.