Walking Through Charlottesville

 
Once while walking, I came face to face with a tiger.

No, seriously, I did.

And, no, I wasn't in Asia. I was on the north end of Charlottesville, Virginia.

I attended Engineering School at the University of Virginia back in the 80s and, on weekends, I liked to walk. I would usually start out in the morning and walk five miles to the mall (it was the 80s, man). I'd hang out at the mall till evening, then walk halfway back to take in a movie at one of the theaters off Hydraulic Road.

I'd usually get back to my dorm after midnight.

If you saw me back then, you would have thought I was a hippy. I had long curly hair down to my shoulders and a beard almost to my chest. And, there was a very good possibility I was barefoot on the sidewalk.

I remember walking up route 29 toward the mall one day in 1984. I guess I was pretty dishevelled looking. A guy was walking on my side in the opposite direction, and he looked like a thirty year older version of me.

He said, "Hey, man, can you spare any cash?"

Let me explain something about nineteen year old me: I didn't like to talk to people. They freaked me out. A hobo who looked like me freaked me out even more.

I opened my mouth, and what came out was an echo of his voice, "No, man, I'm flat busted myself."

He smiled, nodded, "Ain't it the truth all over, man? Peace, bro."

"Peace," I said.

That's when I learned the value of at least washing my clothes. Hobo dude probably couldn't afford the laundromat, but I had no excuse.

Anyway, about that tiger.

I had spent the day at the mall. I probably left the record store with a cassette tape or two. I'd like to say I was one of the cool kids listening to pop - but, it was probably something nerdy like Alan Parsons.

It was after dark when I left, and I usually followed the old 'walk on the left facing traffic' rule, which means I was walking on the opposite side of the four lane than I had been that morning.

When I walk, I normally disappear into my own head. I pay attention to the traffic, but not much else.

It was dark and there was the ever present smell of car exhaust.

I was walking up a small hill when I heard a growl.

I looked up to see a Bengal Tiger, about eleven feet long from its nose to the tip of its tail. It was lying on the ground about five feet in front of me. It's eyes were sort of a dull yellow. The tiger's paws were enormous, about the size of a dinner plate. You don't really appreciate the size of a tiger until you almost step on it.

Did you ever wonder what you would do if you came upon a tiger in the dark? Would you run, scream, wet yourself? I didn't do any of the above - trust me, I'd tell you if I had soaked the old BVDs. I've already told you I was an occasionally smelly hippy, a little incontinence wouldn't embarrass me.

I simply froze, which is probably the smartest thing one can do when faced with a tiger. Can't outrun one - at least I can't.

I looked at the tiger, and it looked at me. It gave me another growl, I think to show off those pearly white fangs.

Right about then, I heard hysterical laughter coming from a gas station a few yards up. Turns out the tiger had been at this Exxon all day as a publicity stunt. The tiger handler and the owner were busting a gut. I then saw the thin metal chain attached to a collar on the tiger's neck. The other end was anchored in rebar driven into the ground. At that point, the tiger rolled over - I think it wanted a belly rub.

I didn't oblige.

Another night, I was walking back to the dorms. There was a shopping center on Barracks Road, and I had almost reached it about 2:30 AM one morning. There was an overpass there where route 250 crossed route 29.

I heard crying as I walked under the overpass. A girl about my age walked by. She was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, and she turned left onto the bypass after she passed me.

What was a teenage girl doing walking alone at 2:30 in the morning? And, why on earth would she walk up to route 250? At the time, there wasn't much in that direction. It certainly wasn't the way you went back to the university. I watched her walk up the entrance ramp until she went out of sight.

I often wonder about that night. I wish I could go back and ask that kid if she needed help. Of course, I probably scared her half to death - I looked like what most people were afraid of running into under an overpass at 2:30 AM.

I thought about these experiences this past week with the disappearance of Hannah Graham from downtown Charlottesville. As the father of a teenage daughter, I pray for her safe return.

I only ventured into downtown on foot a few times. There was little to interest me there.

I do remember being cautioned first year to avoid the area east of UVA hospital. Unless you were going to the Trailways bus station or Amtrak, there was little reason for students to venture there.

Hannah Graham was apparently confused after leaving a party and ended up walking in that direction when she thought she was headed back toward the university. At this point, no one knows what happened to her.

The part that haunts me was the security camera footage that showed her running after passing under the railway bridge - it reminded me of the crying girl I passed in 1985.

There are no coincidences. The people and things we encounter even in passing are there for a reason. An unfortunate we encounter who needs a helping hand, a tiger that shows us the wonder in the unexpected, a lost person who needs our help - these are not coincidences from blind chance. They are opportunities to learn from and to help others.

It's a pity we often don't see this until years after the fact.

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