He sat down next to me. I thought, “there are plenty of open seats on this bus, why does he have to sit here?” As the Greyhound pulled out of Chicago station I tried to ignore the man, but found myself glancing over. He looked like the oldest black man I had ever seen. I pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and was about to light up, when I heard him say, “Them things are gonna kill you, son.” I lit up anyway blowing smoke in his direction. A smile came on his time etched face. He began to chuckle.
For the first time I looked directly at him and said, “What is so funny?” He looked at me with dark eyes that seem to sparkle, “Why, I was just thinking how young folks loves to do everything that ain’t no good for them.” He said almost laughing now. “Some things never change.”
I turned toward the window and smoked in a sulky silence. In a while, I heard he was humming a tune. Something I had never heard before. The sound was melodic and soothing but it irritated me that I was enjoying it. The old man nudged me and said, “Son, have you ever been to a circus?” I replied, “Yeah, lots of times.” Of course, this was a lie because I had only been to a circus once when I was so young I barely remembered it, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him. He returned to humming, even louder and a few of the passengers near us were looking now. In a while he grew silent.
“I worked the circus for many years,” he said suddenly, “You know what a roustabout is?” I had to admit he had my interest and said, “No, what is it.” At this he became animated and strangely even looked younger. “When you is a roustabout, working the big circuses, you need to know how to do everything. Some days you is setting up the big top and others feeding and caring for the big cats. You just never know. I was a roustabout for nigh 45 years.”
I waited for more but nothing came. We drew back into silence until he hummed his song again, this time so quiet that even I could barely hear him. I must have dozed off and when I awoke, he was reading. He looked up from the book and said, “It is fine that you can sleep on these buses, I never could, so I always carry my good book with me, a fine time for me and the Lord to catch up with one another.” At that he pointed at the old battered book and said, “You know this book, son?” Irritated again, I said, “Yeah who doesn’t, everyone knows about the bible.” With this he smiled again and said, “It ain’t knowin’ about it that counts, it is about knowing Him who is in it, how you doing with that?” I didn’t want to talk about it and asked him, “How did you become a roustabout?” He quietly said, “Know ye that the Lord he is God. It is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves, we are his people and the sheep of his pasture.” (Psalm 100:3) Then he turned to me and said, “I was born in Boone County, Kentucky. My daddy was a preacher man. When I was young, maybe even younger than you, a circus came to town. Man, I was lost in all of it and decided right then and right there that I was going to get me a job working in a circus.” The laugh returned, it was full this time and his whole body shook with the fullness of it. “The problem was that my daddy had me pegged to be a preacher, just like him. But being of a wise young age… I knew better.” He grew a bit more solemn and said, “Within a year, I had run away. And I found that circus, alright.” Silence then, “What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Matthew 16:26) He sighed, “Almost 50 years ago I made that deal with the devil and if it wasn’t for the Lord himself, I could have lost it all.” His smile returned as he said, “Now I take every chance I can to talk to young folks, let them know, you don’t have to decide to lose your soul today.” He then quoted this verse, “Wherefore he is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.” (Hebrews 7:28)
He talked more about his life, the good and the bad. I listened with ears of a 17-year-old. Knowing that his failings would never be mine. I even felt superior to this man because in my eyes he was a failure, a sad old man riding a bus with nothing better to do than bother young folks with his story of woe.
The thing is I am now as ‘ancient’ as I thought him to be and I regret that I did not take his words to heart. I too went on to live my life of woe and now I travel the ‘bus ways’ of the internet sharing my story. And today I want to agree with that traveler. I never knew his name but he left me with something better, his testimony and his hope. I want to leave you with that today. Before he got off the bus at Oshkosh, he said this, “Son, try to share the love of God with everyone you meet, if they don’t want it. It’s like puttin’ money in the bank for them. Believe me the time will come when they need it.” In my mind I see him slowly walking away down the aisle of the old bus and know he was right. Today I got a withdrawal with interest, I hope you did too.
By the way the song he hummed is called, “Give me Jesus”, here are a few of the words:
Take the world but give me Jesus, All it’s joys are but a name; But His love abideth ever, through eternal years the same.
Oh, the height and depth of mercy! Oh the length and breadth of love! Oh the fullness of redemption, Pledge of endless life above.
To that I say amen, John.
6/5/17
The bus riders…
