It’s Still A Small World

Yesterday at lunch we ended up sitting near some Army folk who struck up a conversation. As it turns out, the SFC was from Tifton GA. That’s not too far from “home” but even more interesting was that the captain doing most of the talking was from Martinez GA, quite literally down the street from where I did most of my growing up in Augusta. We pointed out several locations of mutual interest, and it turns out we’d both moved north of Atlanta — I moved to Roswell my senior year, he moved to Alpharetta sometime before that. It’s really the same area, since I’d lived way up at the very edge of town, where Alpharetta (I always hated that name) was just across the street from our subdivision. We both graduated from the same high school, good ol’ Milton. Of course he followed me by 9 years (!) so we didn’t play the “did you know sosandso?” game. Of course, since I moved my senior year and was bound and determined to hate it, I didn’t really know so many people in the first place. I definitely threw that whole year away instead of capitalizing on it.

It’s not quite the same as seeing an old high school and college friend walk up (did I post about that?) but it’s still unusual.

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