Life in a Very Small town

Well, here we are in Manning, South Carolina, at a Super 8 motel. It was only a 650 km day because we quit the road a couple of times to poke around. Manning is a very small town, maybe village is a better word, or maybe hamlet, or maybe whistle-stop- anyway it's got a Super 8 motel by the highway exit and we were tired.

While going out to retrieve our overnight bag from the car I saw a lady coming toward the Motel door and, gentleman that I am, I held it open for her. She said, "Your name is Sheppard, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And you're from Montreal, right?"

"Uh, yes. How do you know that?"

"I'm Sister Ruff. I've seen you at assemblies."

Her husband, Wayne Ruff, with whom I once worked in the Attendant Dept. at District Conventions, came out of his car to shake my hand. They were on their way home from their vacation. Is there anybody out there who is good enough at math to calculate the chances of a meeting like that?

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I just interrupted this blog to go to my car and fetch a book. While out there the Ruff's pulled up again after having had supper at a Wendy's down the road, as we did earlier. So we chatted some more. They spent their vacation at Bradenton where we were two years ago and are hurrying to get home in time for the birth of twin grandchildren.

Manning - you never know who you might meet in a tiny town.