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Wow. Sobering. I wish our culture wasn't so isolating. Living alone feels so unnatural to me.


Stories like Mr. Domsky's make me so sad. Thank you for writing about it.


Sad as he died alone yet happy one can only presume - but not to check on someone whose routine was soo consistent I find sad. Can't knock on the door?


Thank-you for that, Charlie! :(


We used to drive to Allentown several times a week. For years, and in every kind of weather, we always saw a man slowly trudging along narrow, shoulderless Route 412, heading one way on our way up, and back the other way as we went home. He walked with the murderous traffic on the right (wrong) side of the road, and would stop, turn around, and watch each vehicle as it went by. We repeatedly tossed him a smile and a wave, but he never responded. We called him "Walking Man."

Every year he and his clothes looked more weathered and worn, but he was always there. Until suddenly he wasn't. We figured, sadly, that age, illness, or a careless driver had overtaken him. Or maybe someone had had him committed. We even imagined him dying like Mr. Domsky, alone and unremembered, wherever he spent his nights.

A year went by. Then recently, there he was, walking north. He stopped and stared at us, as usual. And we smiled and waved because we were glad to see him, even if our "connection" to him was one-way. It just felt good to know that things were okay in his peculiar world.


Oh, Charlie. This is so discouraging. You are so right.


Bob - Thx for sharing the "Walking Man" story.

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