I've forgotten his name...but for this story, I'll call him Mr. Smith.
He was once the richest man in the little town where my Dad grew up...and once tipped my Dad 5 dollars (a huge amount back then....when Dad was a delivery boy for Western Union.)
Like a lot of people, he lost most of his money during the depression and wound up in his old age destitute and a resident of the "Old Folks Home" outside of Charlotte.
My Dad would visit him occasionally on Sunday afternoons and on this particular Sunday, my Dad decided that he should bring the old man a gift. Earlier that week my Dad had bought me my first watch, a pocket watch. Dad asked me if I would let him give my watch to Mr. Smith and he would buy me another one the following day. I said yes.
The following day, as the owner of a brand new pocket watch, I was proudly showing it off to my buddies. They were obviously impressed because the next day while waiting for the bus, they told a group of "big boys" about my new watch.
"Oh, let' see it," one of the boys said. "Yeah, let us take a look."
So, I took the watch out...and handed it over for them to admire. The oldest boy in the group. took the watch...and threw it as far as he could into the weed covered lot. Just then, the bus arrived and they all got on...still laughing. I boarded the bus as well, since I had a dental appointment.
It was in the daylight of the next day before I could search for my watch, and search I did....but to no avail. I searched for the rest of that week in fact, but it was not to be found.
I finally just gave up. A couple of months later, they built a house on that lot.
I was tempted a few times to knock on the door and ask the new residents if they ever heard any strange "ticking" sounds...……..but I decided against it.
-Ed
