Cencus 2010

This household sent in the census letter, saving a worker to have to knock at the door and gather our information.  How many?  What ethnicity?  Simple form, quick answers.

Yesterday a wee small elderly gentleman saw our back gate open;  he parked to ask the man of the house some information on the neighbors who were never home, or at any rate, never answered his knock.  Five minutes later his small economy vehicle was parked and running in the driveway again.  This time he saw my front door open and came to ask some clarification questions of me.  House numbers were messing with his head as were skin colors and the concept of north, south, west and east.  Right and left are always so confusing.  From where you are standing or where you are looking, or just what.  West of China is more than a metaphor on our street as one of our sweet neighbors is named China.

He knocked on the door once more.  I was in my little writing nook nearby.  This time he would like our names and phone number so he could call with questions; which he did once.  This time he was trying to juggle papers, writing pads, manila envelopes in mid air with a pen in the other hand.  I asked him in, as I could easily tell that he was...all in.

The chair I motioned him into was a relief to him.  He clearly was not comfortable in breaking a rule.  He was 80, and frail, a little muddled, lived not a mile from us, had raised not only his own kids but other's kids, didn't have a retirement fund, had to work, found people uncooperative and indifferent in his quest.  If they only knew what kind of money it meant to the city to have their presence counted by the Federal Government maybe they would care. I got a dollar figure and he said it ran into the millions.

I did not ask the wee frail gentleman his name.  From my observation, I think it was American Hero.