Only Because He Would Not Do It Himself

This is post is prompted in part by a certain Matthew in California that is starting to think I don't actually meet people in my travels. Another part is because the subject of this post would never toot his own horn (though you may catch him humming more often), so I'm taking the liberty to do it for him. If you don't know what I'm talking about, click on the title of this post and enjoy the clever mental playground of sights, sounds, and observations that display a wit that is merely enjoyed for its own sake. And of course, a disclaimer is needed: 1) I didn't ask him for permission. 2) This post reflects exclusively the views of the writer and his narrow experience with the subject. So without further ado, let's hit the jump -->



If you get to meet John, he's one of the most unassuming individuals I have met, or have the privelege to know. If you've never met an unassuming person, be advised that this is a good thing. Their counter part is a pretentious person. John is the former to a large degree.

He's a student at Southern Adventist University and you can tell that he enjoys his major by his clever remarks of the mammalian species he is observing, provided in his field notes. If you want, you can view his profile and see his interests, so I'm not going to review the things that you can read for yourself.

I first met John through his parents. I was on assignment in Maine, and ended up attending a church in Topsham, where John's parents attended. I was introduced to John, not in person, but in a sense, in spirit. His mom is kind and verbally encouraging. His dad is quiet and thoughtful, and firm. I enjoyed many Sabbath afternoons at their house either in the canoes or having pleasent conversation for hours in their living room. At that time, John was at school, but I learned some of his parent's traits, that same unassuming personalities in both of them, the thoughtful and thought-provoking conversation, the helpfulness and hospitality. Don't get me wrong, I met a good handful of people in Maine, and that I enjoy still, and of whom I continue to think fondly. But their home, the house with The View from Great Island, was a haven that allowed a place for me to "come rest awhile."

But John is definitely his parent's son. If you don't know what I mean, just look at your own parents, and unless you are in a deluded state of denial, you have to acknowledge that a lot of your parents' traits can be found in you, especially when pain strike, burdens bear down, or elation erupts.

So as I spent time with John for a meager three days, I had to smile to myself, recognizing in him the same traits that I enjoy in his parents. It is difficult to imagine a teenager today who doesn't have his own agenda and in one way or another, lets others know it. But when I met him he was 18 years old at the time, others had volunteered him to tote me around for the next 72 hrs, putting aside his own agenda, just to make sure I got to where I needed to be in a timely fashion. Rarely does one find someone who does not complain, but even they will let it slip in their conversation that there are other things they could be doing. As John was driving me around New Brunswick, I got the sense that the only thing he was interested in doing was taxiing me around, even when he was in the middle of doing other things. Even as we talked, I noticed an interest beyond the typical, "how was your day?", but genuine curiosity was marked by, "I noticed that you said ..." and followed by, "...I thought it was interesting that you (did/thought/said/etc)...". Traits very similar to his father and mother.

Another trait common to parents and son is their generosity. The offering that the door is always open and Rolo the dog will be happy to see me, is substantiated by the availability that is apparent when you drive up. In particular, on the night I arrived for the weekend, they put me up in what I learned was John's own room, and though he could have insisted otherwise, he let me have the entire room, for my own privacy and collection of thoughts. I awoke the next morning to find out where John slept that night: on the bay window bench, lined with a sitting cushion. He dismissed my concern without any fuss, and proceeded to direct conversation to other things, never really concerned with himself. He almost seems like a person who would find himself comfortable in any but the most extreme situations. The canoes, the rooms, the cabin, even time working wood with John's father, all available. Not to be taken lightly, these are not free things to any of them. But they are offered.

John plays the cello, and I had a chance to photograph him at a wedding this last June 2009 (that's him here with Julie Penner in the background). Although he can dress up in appropriate formal wear, I imagine that he is more comfortable running around in comfortable cotton pants, and a pair of Crocs or at least hiking gear. It won't be an unusual thing to find him taking a solo three day backpacking trip, and he has some interest in rock-climbing as well.


Talking to him, one may notice a similar characteristic to his father. The conversation is unhurried, but interested. Insightful, but unpretentious. Humor is subtle, but very clever. And if nothing else, very relaxing, such that except for hunger pangs twice a daily though would intrude, it's easy to just keep talking, not because he fills up the conversation with 'filler words' but because somehow he puts you at ease. Company like that have a certain kind of freedom.

If you're in New England, his parent provide a service to the community, by giving health talks and cooking classes (some of the best food you'll put in your mouth). The three boys are travelers. John has a brother who is married and lives in Africa. Some of you may have heard him speak at GYC in Kentucky, his name is Paul Howe. He has another brother, Barry, who is currently doing research in Kyrgyzstan. Both equally as interesting, and different in their own way. And when I'm in Maine the first weekend of March, John, himself, will be in Haiti to do relief work during Spring Break.

So drop by his blog, enjoy his clever wit and insightful observations and disciplined creativity, and give him a little appreciation. And even if Providence never brings us in contact, I know I'll always be grateful.