Marty...

Sometimes, you meet someone you like immediately. Marty is like that. Outgoing, talkative and funny, I was glad that I had been sent to be his nurse.

He lives out north of Podunk, off a dirt road, in the country. When I arrived, the chain link gate was closed and locked. I called him on my cell phone but, before he answered, I saw him walking toward the gate.

He waved a big wave and smiled a big grin. I knew he was my patient, and that I was at the right place: his wife told me Noah's Ark was out front. Back toward the south of the property, propped up on supports, was a huge ark, rusty and derelict, but obviously once seaworthy.

Marty didn't meet me at the gate by himself; he brought his “posse”.....four dogs and a very curious cat. And chained to the fence, on a long chain, was Lucy, the goat. As we entered his home, he showed me his bird, “Tweety” and there, perched on the swing in the very large birdcage, was a plastic version of the cartoon character. “He's easy to take care of!” Marty said with a laugh.

Short and stocky, with a wild mane of silver hair, Marty couldn't look mean if he tried. He ushered me into the living room and offered me a chair.

He sat down near me on the sofa. And then it started. For the next hour and a half, he regaled me with stories of his life.

“You know, I'm a third grade graduate....” he said as he looked at me with his intensely brown eyes, waiting for my reaction. I just kept smiling and so he explained: his parents came here from Spain. They spoke no English and worked in the fields. He didn't have a chance to continue in school because his parents followed the crops.

Somewhere along the way, his father saved up enough money to buy a big rig and started making a living by hauling whatever anyone would pay him to haul. Marty learned to drive a truck before he learned to drive a car.

When he was sixteen, he saw a piece of paper tacked to the wall next to the phone in a truck stop. Some guy in El Paso, Texas, was looking for a truck driver. Marty called him and set up an interview. One of the guy's drivers was going to be in a nearby town in a couple of days and he gave Marty a ride to El Paso.

The driver, a guy named Joe, let Marty drive the truck most of the way back to Texas. When they arrived at the trucking company, the owner took one look at Marty and told him “I'm not going to hire you....” Marty, far from being discouraged, asked him why.

“You're too small, you wouldn't be able to change the tires, on the road.” With that, Marty showed him exactly what his father had taught him: he put some axle grease on a board, put it under the tire, and pulled it off, single-handed.

Still not convinced, the owner asked Marty if he knew how to fix tractors, and Marty said he did. By the time he had the old Ford tractor running, he had a job. Thrilled, Marty vowed to make him glad that he took a chance on him. Over the next decade or more, the truck owner taught Marty everything that he needed to know about the trucking business, and taught him to speak English with a Texas drawl.

A dozen years later, at the ripe old age of 28, Marty had made enough money to buy his own truck and start his own business. Watching him talk

about his past was a treat. The sparkle in his eyes was refreshing. His laugh was contagious. And his intelligence was abundantly obvious. I can only imagine where he would be and what he would be doing, if he had had the opportunity to finish high school, at least.

After assessing his wounds, and reviewing what he was doing to care for them, it became clear to me that I could not admit him to home health services. He knew what to do and how to do it. He understood the reasons for taking each of his medications, and he was going to see his physician in a few days, too.

After a delightful visit, I had to leave my new friend and get back to work. Still smiling over his stories, and with a bag of apples that he insisted that I take, I headed for my car. He was fascinated by the Prius and had to see all of it. His cat liked it, too: we had to convince her to get out, so I could leave.

And before I left, he made me promise that I would come visit him again. I did, because I want to take pictures of the ark. And Lucy, the goat.