Lost phone reward

I love chance meetings. Perhaps for the fact I believe that the most interesting connections we can make are with those that were never “meant” to happen.

On my way back from walking my dog in the morning, I happened upon an iPhone someone had forgotten along a short wall near the school bus stop. Scooping it up, I figured that it was just a matter of time before its owner would realize they had lost it and would call the number. I decided to leave a note where I found it in case the owner went back looking for it. I charged up the phone and waited for it to ring.

The Wait

Six hours later, it finally rang, and I excitedly answered it filled with curiosity to who this phone belonged to (and why they hadn’t noticed it was gone!). We speculated that maybe it was a teenager. I answered and the other end was a male voice. He had retraced his steps and remembered stopping by the wall to dig through his backpack and must have accidentally left his phone there.  I told him that I would meet him where he had left it and I rushed out the door.

Not a Teen

I fell into sight of his light blue Passat stationwagon, and he proceeded to drive towards me.  As he stopped and got out, I noticed that he was in uniform. Since he was wearing a khaki top, I guessed he was in the Navy, but after further inspection I looked down to see him in olive-colored slacks.  That isn’t navy, I thought to myself. He continued to talk and express his gratitude as I scanned his plethora of pins and ribbons.  Nothing looked familiar and I was interrupted as he quickly extended his hand as if to firmly shake mine with the intention of handing me something in the process. You know… like passing something covertly. Being a girly that I am and not used to manly handshakes, I hesitated, but realized that he was handing me a military “coin” in his palm.  He said that it was given to him as I gleefully examined it like a child who just got handed a piece of candy.

Colonel What?

I didn’t get his name, which left this fleeting moment a bit unsettling as he hopped back into his car and drove off. When I returned home, I described his uniform to Paul and told him I had not recognized any of his pins.

“I didn’t see that oak leaf thing you have,” I said.

“Was it a bird?” Paul asked.

“I guess,” I replied.

“Huh. He must’ve been a Colonel then,” said Paul.

How funny it is to live in an area with such a high concentration of top-ranking military personnel.  I think I will miss Springfield.