2005 Newsletter Sept - Dec, Page 14, Thanksgiving with Harry, Floral Design Institute, Floral design school, floral school, floral classes, floral supplies, floral videos, home study, wedding design

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Twenty minutes later Harry returned. He wore an ear-to-ear grin and his breath smelled of whisky. In one hand he held large boxed pizza, in the other an unopened bottle of Canadian Club whisky. He set the pizza on the bench and held up the whisky. “I can’t sleep without my special pillow and my bottle of CC,” he explained. Harry then proceeded to make pizza sandwiches by pressing one slice of pizza upside-down on top of another slice leaving the crusts outside.

He took out his pocket knife and carefully cut and reshaped the pizza box to hold his pizza sandwiches. He wrapped the bottle of whisky in a pair of blue jeans and placed the pizza on top.Once again he held up the trail mix. “You sure you don’t want this?” he asked. I declined again and suppressed a giggle. Poor Harrys’ wife, she sent him off with healthy snacks which were so quickly replaced with pizza and whisky. The train station master called for all-aboard. Harry latched his suitcase and we all lined up to board the Empire Builder bound for Chicago. Harry glanced at the bouquet of flowers that I carried, “That sure is beautiful,” he said, “Could I have a couple of those flowers for my mom?” How could I say no? The flowers were on individual water-tubes. I removed a few blossoms and gave them to him, and he beamed. I will always remember the sight of a tipsy Harry struggling to get on the train with his suitcase in one hand, an oversized pillow and flowers in the other.

I ran into Harry the next morning on my way to the dining car. He was sitting with two of the most colorful characters I have ever met. They were classic “bachelor farmers” from the pages of a Garrison Keiller book. Their clothing consisted of brightly colored mismatched camouflage and Green Bay Packers sportswear all held together with matching extra large red suspenders. Like Harry they both had ample bellies. Harry stood and introduced me, “This young lady gave me the flowers,” he said to his new found friends. They both stared at me and smiled broadly. It quickly became obvious that Harry had been sharing his whisky. “Are your flowers holding up OK?” I asked. Harry hesitated, “Well ya see…,” He started. “He gave those flowers away”, chimed in one of the bachelor farmers. “Yeah, he gave ‘em to a girl,” said the other. He punched his buddy on the arm and they both giggled like eight-year-old boys. I looked at Harry as he turned bright red. “A young girl got on the train last night at Wolf Point” he explained. “She couldn’t have been much more than twenty years old and she had three little kids with her.” “They was runnin’ away from somebody”, offered the first bachelor farmer, “They didn’t even have any coats and it was 20 degrees in Wolf Point last night.” “They got off in Fargo,” said the second bachelor farmer. Harry held up a hand to stop them. This was going to be his story.

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