I was on my way home last week from an appointment in Jacksonville and decided to take the back roads home.

I took State Highway 175. This is a highway that brings back a lot of memories, having driven this route many a time to Nacogdoches during my college days, over 30 years ago.

Between Jacksonville and Frankston used to be a little nursing home that sat back off the road and in front was a bench that sat on an embankment overlooking the highway.

It seemed that every time I passed, regardless of the time of day or month of the year, there was an old black man sitting there by himself, watching traffic pass.

Every time I passed, over that four-year period, he was always sitting there and would offer a big smile and wave. I found myself anticipating him and would roll down my window and wave as big as I could and return his smile.

As a young college man with the world at my feet, I graduated and went on to bigger and better adventures. It was some time thereafter that I found myself on that route again. looked to see him again but the nursing home was overgrown with weeds and his bench was gone.

My heart sank that day, but as we all do, I continued on my way. I pulled over last week in front of the old nursing home, feeling compelled to do so, and thought about that old man and what he meant to me.

An old man approaching the end of his life, and a young man just beginning his. We both benefited from our friendship without even knowing each other’s names. His smile and wave made my life better and richer as I set out on my path.

I look back and wish I had stopped and introduced myself. I wish that I could have told his family how much he meant to me and how much I looked forward to his smile.

I have wondered for years if he had a family that loved and respected him, or if he was left there uncared for and forgotten. For what it’s worth, he was loved. And to this day, he is missed by an old man that once had the world at his feet but was too busy to stop and say “hello.”