Gary

I met him three days ago while I was wandering around the neighborhood. He was out stretching his legs, enjoying this warm weather just like I was. When he saw one of the only white girls that lived around here, he called out to me,

"hey! you live with them girls down at that house right?"

 I smiled and yelled back that I was and walked over and introduced myself. Together we continued walking since I had my camera out and was snapping pictures of the sunset. he started asking me questions about myself and I answered them one by one, eventually telling him how much I enjoy taking pictures of people and telling their stories. I didn't even have to ask, he started telling me stories, pointing to an abandoned school house on the right and telling me he went to that school and graduated there. He also told me his best years where that his childhood. He and his friends would play ding dong ditch, make wagons and roll them down the hill. Some kids got badly hurt, but he never did. During Halloween, they would throw toilet paper rolls on the trees and put mini bomb explosions in mailboxes. He was 10 years old when he moved into washington Heights, and his memories of his childhood are still alive with him today. When we got back to his house, he leaned up against his truck and smiled as I snapped his picture.

Now he's a father to many, a grandfather to some, and a great-grandfather to one. His hobbies are taking walks, fixing his truck, watching cowboy movies, hanging out with his childhood friends who still live next door. He's a jack of all trades, such as plumbing or fixing roofs. His name is Gary, my friend and neighbor.