Jimmy's locked up

 I work at a public library branch and I love my job.  I do not save lives but in many small ways I help people.  Sometimes I locate books for them, like something to study for a nursing exam, or to fix plumbing or an author they want to read.  Sometimes I show off a database that might be helpful.  I relish those times that I get a college student taking online classes and I can put on my old instruction librarian hat and show them how to find peer reviewed articles.  But most of what I do is helping folks bridge the digital divide and print out, fill out, download and upload needed documents to function in the digital world.  There are about half a dozen folks at the new Fiserv Forum downtown that I helped submit applications, download employment contracts, scan and then upload employment documents.  I didn't get them the job, but they needed me to get their employer what was required.  I enjoy helping people.  

Now on a typical day, several hundred people come through the doors of the Martin Luther King branch.  I have never been good with matching names and faces.  It takes me a while and I have to make an effort.  So pretty much the only patrons I know the names of are the ones that are frequently in need of assistance (particularly those who regularly ask me to put holds on items for them so I see their name on my screen) or patrons who have caused trouble and I have had to fill out or read security reports about them.  By far the vast majority of folks I just don't remember.  The regular ones look familiar but I may never learn any of their names.  I'm friendly to everyone, so for the most part it is not a problem.

The branch I work at is not far from where I live.  I can (if I get my act together and the weather is right and I already have my lunch in the break room fridge) walk to work.  This means that occasionally when I’m out walking or shopping I will come across folks that I've met in the course of my work.   More than half the time I don't recognize them, but I assume if someone recognizes me it is because I helped them in some way.  I will engage in small talk and hope they don't expect me to know their name.

The other morning I was shopping at the local Walmart and as I put a pack of toilet paper in my cart an elderly black woman rolled her cart up to me and got a big smile on her face.  "Oh it's you!"

I nodded and smiled figuring her for a library patron.

"It's so good to see you." she said, then she got serious, "You know, Jimmy is locked up…. Yea….He doing a lot better now, but he's locked up."

I nodded and said, "Glad he's doing better"

"Yea.  Yea, He graduated from high School.  I was proud, but he's locked up now…. Still he doing better.  Sometimes he ask if I see any of his teachers…Not really."

I smiled and nodded.

"Well I am so glad I saw you.  I'll tell Jimmy.  This really made my day" and she walked  away smiling.

I have no idea who Jimmy is.  I'm not even sure if this woman knows who I am, but whoever she thinks I am, I'm glad I made her day, and I hope that Jimmy really is doing better.