I never knew his name

Another story from G-town.

If you drive along the highway leading into town you just might see him. He's really pretty scary looking. Like an ancient man, stepping through time. A long coat that hung down almost to the ankles, an old canvas bag hung over his back. Black boots, old and worn stick out below the hem of his pants and coat. Long black curly hair that doesn't appear to be ever combed or cut, although it doesn't appear to be very dirty. A beard as long and unkept as the head, hangs to the stomach. And across his shoulder is his rifle. The first time I saw him, I was quite intimidated. But then I began to notice him regularly walking along the road to town.

Once a week? Or once a month? I can't remember how often, he hiked down the highway about 5 miles into town. This was one of our most famous "hermits." He lived somewhere out on the mountains, in an old shack, is what I heard. He'd hike to town, buy some supplies, and hike back home. I never heard him speak. Never encountered him in the stores, just saw him walking to and from. He was just there. A part of the fabric of G-town. More of a picture than a resident.
Yet he was part of us. In a rugged lumber town, he was respected for being, "rugged." In G-town you won points with the population based on your ruggedness. I knew an 85 year old woman who lived without electric or water for a week after a storm and never told anyone. These were some tough people!

Anyway, I never knew this hermit's name. Never saw him up close. Just watched him hike into and out of town.

One day the fire department got a call to his house. It had completely burned down with the hermit in it. I always wonder about him, and think, "One day he was someone's baby." One day, I hope he was loved, but doubt it. What makes a man want to hide from everyone? What happens to someone between being born and becomng a hermit? Another unravelling of the fabric of G-town.