Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Talk about a small world!

So I'm at my daughter's JV softball game last night. She's pitching her azz off and getting no help from her middle infielders. The ump blew and easy and obvious call, it's the first inning, they're all ready down by 5, and only one run was earned, thanks to three errors by the infielders. I've all ready barked at the umpire, barked at the coach, and barked at my daughter. It's time for a walk to blow off some steam. I'm walking by the home team's bleachers, and a guy sees my Youngstown State University T-shirt, and asks me if I am from Ohio? We find out we both graduated the same year (1980) and lived less than 10 miles from each other where we grew up. Here I am in Lakeville, MInnesota, and I bump into what ammounts to a next door neighbor. We talked for close to an hour about bars we'd run, bands we'd seen-any body out there ever heard of The Michael Stanley Band or Left End? 2 very popular regional bands from that era. Time flew by, and it was time to get back to the game. Ellie ended up pitching 12 innings, not allowing another run, and her team beat Lakeville North 9-5. Nice to bump into someone from my old stomping grounds and watering holes. I wouldn't doubt we hit on some of the same girls in those bars in Youngstown. Who's run into "neighbors" far away from where they grew up?

When I was out processing from Keesler AFB, MS in 1978 after technical school, I was in line at the airline ticket counter on base waiting my turn when the girl in front of me turned around to look at something.

She was in my 6th grade class in Pittsburgh, PA and I hadn't seen her in that long, or since.

My daughter moved from Grants Pass, Oregon to Los Angles about twenty-five years ago. Grants Pass had a population of about 12,000. She moved into an apartment complex with about a thousand units. The first time she took her trash to the dumpster she ran into a guy she used to work with in Grants Pass.

Maybe he's a stalker.

I was in Iraq in 2006, Myself and my supply SGT and a few others flew via Sherpa plane (think flying school bus.. literally, is square shaped)on a logistics run(picking up supplies) to camp Anaconda (we were stationed at Al Asad).

A buddy from college that was stationed at Anaconda and I met up for chow and some other business that he could help me with since he new the lay of the land there better than I did. The magic of e-mail made this all possible in the first place.

So we met up for chow in the evening at the large chow hall, then headed out to his Battery area (we are both Field Artillery officers) which was directly across the road form the chow hall. We make it about 1/2 way across the 2 lane road and are approached by an E-7 SFC/Platoon SGT, we exchange salutes and greeting... then the SFC and myself both do a double take and stop dead in our tracks in the middle of the road. The SFC was my Drill Sargent when I was in basic training at Fort Sill, Oklahoma in 1999!!!! He was the last person I ever expected to see ever again. So we chatted for a few minutes, and caught up a little, then went on our way(s).

In the total of 16 1/2 months I was in Iraq on that deployment, I randomly ran into a few other guys that were in my FA OBC course too, as I got to travel around the country doing some training/work/supply runs/etc.

I was working in a grocery store in Colorado Springs when I hear a guy yell my name across the produce department... my workout partner and fellow football player from my high school outside of Portland!

Pretty cool bumping into someone like that, I'm always amazed when that happens.

On a side note, it is just a kids game, you ought not bark at refs and get so pissed you have to go cool off with a walk. Just enjoy the game, one day you will give anything to be able to watch your little girl pitch, with crappy infielders and horrible refs, and all you will have is the memories.

Over ten years ive moved out of state and back, then several times around texas until i met my fiance and we got our first house together in her home town. Well i go down the street kissing hands and shaking babies and meet a guy i went to college with 300 miles away we used to slingshot frozen ducks together at field trials and he lives two doors down. Pretty neat

Ran into a couple of grammar school classmates down at Ft Polk, LA that I hadn't seen for several years. They were just starting infantry training at Tigerland and I had just finished it.

Going home on leave once I got to talking with a young Marine who was about my age while waiting for our flight out of O'Hare airport in Chicago. Come to find out we were both from the same area, no more than 10-12 miles apart. The more we talked about some of the people we knew and/or related to we discovered that we were related to each other, something like 3rd cousins from my mothers side of the family as I recall.

had a SSgt come through my unit, just coming off of active duty and wanted to be in the Reserve, so he joined us while looking for gainful employment.

One drill weekend we were taking in the hall, me asking him about life, family, etc. I find out he's an Air Force brat, that leads to he was born at RAF Alconbury in the UK, that leads to age, then me asking about his dad and mom's first names, leading to me telling him they were my friends when I was enlisted and stationed at Alconbury, and that I remembered him being born, and that I'd held him when he was a baby while I visiting his folks in base housing.

Now, that was weird.

I was riding upstairs with my brother on a double-decker bus just out of London's Piccadilly Circus in the mid-80s, having just arrived in from Scotland. A woman sitting next to us asked if we were from California. I responded by saying no, but that I'd bet her 5p that I could tell her what state she was from. She blushed and laughed and said, "make it 50 pence and you've got a bet, young man, but if you lose, you better pay up!". I smiled and said, "Massachusetts for sure. If forced to narrow it down I'd say South Shore, or maybe Dorchester..." She was dumbfounded.

"But how...do I know...how'd you know that? I have a little accent sometimes but I find it hard to believe that you'd be able to..." I explained that we were Bostonians who for all intents and purposes didn't sport accents. Turns out I hit in on the head, and she was from Dorchester, but currently lived in an apt. six blocks away from our place. Funny. And no, I didn't make her pay.

I've run into several former classmates from my time living in Japan when I was a young kid in weird places: on a golf course at the Mt. Kenya Safari Club in Kenya, a dive bar in the Mission in SF. An underground after hours club in the Bronx. Fishing a trout stream in western MA.

But my stories are lame 'n' tame compared to some that folks have told me over the years...

In 1978, my wife and I flew into Zurich, Switzerland, and as we were heading through to the concourse, I saw a guy walking the other direction towards the plane that was in my 4th grade class and we hadn't seen each other for years. I said, "Hi, Randy." and he said, "Hi, Keith." as if we saw each other every day, and never said another word.

A few years later, (1986) in Plymouth, Michigan, I was in a little basket shop with my wife and saw a guy from my home town in Ontario that I hadn't seen since the late 60's. This kind of stuff happens to me all the time, so much so that it doesn't shock my wife the way it used to.

Lately, I'm seeing a lot of people who claim to know me, but I have no clue who they are. Is it senile dementia?

About 5 years ago my sister was at HND airport in Tokyo. We're from a fairly remote area. She ran into a guy who grew up less than a block away from my parent's placed in town. As they were talking, someone she graduated high school with came up and started chatting. My sister was there teaching English, the neighbor was there for a study abroad, and the high school friend was there for something to do with the air force. I just looked it up, and my parents county has 8,000 people. I wonder what the odds are that all of them met at a domestic airport in Japan.

The weirdest on I have is from stopping at a gas station halfway across the country. The clerk freaked out when she saw me and started asking me about my parents, family, ect. It turns out she was one of my parent's oldest friends. She even had a picture of me in her purse. That was crazy. It's a strange feeling when someone you don't think you've ever met knows all about you.

Awesome, Shootist. Remember the cartoon with the dog and sheep, I think it was? They'd clock in for a shift, and pass by each other each time, and say 'morning Ralph'/'morning Sam'.

Weird on the dementia. So, anyway, don't mean to embarrass you or anything, but do you have that c-note you borrowed from me back in '70?

and a guy sees my Youngstown State University T-shirt, and asks me if I am from Ohio?

Must be something about being from Youngstown, this happened to me two time in Italy.

Years a go we were in London visiting my wife's sister and her husband who was there in the Air Force. We did a bus tour of London. As we stood in line, my BIL nudged me and pointed at a small suitcase in the hand of the guy in front of me. The name tag said he was from Mackay, ID, which is maybe 150 miles from here. Most people would pronounce that Muh Kay' but it's Mack' ee. I said Mack' ee, Idaho, eh? He looked at me and said 'where are you from?' We all had a good laugh. He was a traveling salesman and was killing some time in London while waiting for a plane.

Uncle Joe-

Are you a former Youngstown Stater, or were you referring to another school?

Point well taken 'Walker-I get way too wrapped up in this. My competitive side takes over a little bit too much. In the grand scheme of things, I guess if all I've got to grump about is a blown call or a booted ball, life isn't really all that bad.

when i was working at McDonalds here in Grants Pass one day, a guy who was my best friend and neighbor when i lived in San Diego came in asking for an application. he was later hired, and then quit to join the Army.

sadly, two years later i recieved the call that he had been killed by an IED in Afghanistan. RIP brother!

In 1966, I was in the revolving door of Bloomingdale's department store in Manhattan and saw a woman I knew in college several years before. I continued around the door and caught up with er. We had coffee and departed - never to meet again.

With 8 million people in New York City (16 million in the metro area, plus being 300 miles from the University), it was a small world.