Big-hearted readers

Drop a pebble in the water, just a splash and it is gone
But there’s a half-a-hundred ripples, circling on and on,
Spreading from the center, flowing to the sea
And there’s no way of telling where the end is going to be.
— James W. Foley

SUTHERLIN — He walks into the restaurant wearing an Honor Flight jacket. Cane in one hand. Firm handshake with the other. Slow, shuffling steps from the door to our nearby table.

Someone else drove him here. Dennis “Ande” Anderson is legally blind because of glaucoma. But that’s just the start. Two strokes. Heart problems. More.

“I figure,” he says, “I have about three years left.”

He is 78.

I wanted to meet with him because of the handwritten letter he sent me April 8.

Dear Bob,

Please forgive this unprofessional letter. We talked while you were in Arizona and discussed my desire to fund one $1,000 scholarship. I am sending my dollars to you. I’d wanted to fund someone going into nursing, but admit there just might be none. My second wish would be to fund that student who struggles and hears the names of others called, and not their own. I am a nearly blind Vietnam Veteran who cares about people.

During what I call “Covid Spring,” I began a relationship with sixth-grade students at a small Catholic school in Taylorville, Ill. Those sixth-graders will, next month, graduate from Taylorville High. So, on May 14, I’m joining the sixth-grade teacher at St. Mary School to honor the 102 sixth-graders I’ve spoken with and interviewed over the last six years.

We’re having a banquet in Taylorville to tell these kids, especially the ones who missed out on so much because of the pandemic, you rock. We’re awarding several $1,000 scholarships. Giving away books. And some hard, cold cash.

While I was being interviewed by a reporter for the Breeze Courier, the newspaper in Taylorville, Ill., reporter Rachel Elam asked what the best lesson I’ve learned has been.

“When people do something selfless, it inspires others to do the same,” I told her. “That’s what this is all about — it’s the lesson of the movie that brought us together, It’s a Wonderful Life.”

It’s the inspiration of a guy like Mr. Anderson saying, “I’m in.”

It’s Cathy reaching out to me in the first place. When, in March 2020, she asked for permission to record part of a book I wrote, 52 Little Lessons from It’s a Wonderful Life, to help inspire students of hers who were studying remotely, it was the first act of kindness in the Taylorville-Eugene connection. It would have been easier for her not to do so. Let the kids just figure it out.

“But I was desperate to find ways to keep these kids interested in learning,” she said, “and I was losing them to the fog of online learning.”

When I OK’d the recording, then agreed to let the class interview me, then offered the 23 students a commencement address in May 2020 from Yachats, it was the start of a six-year relationship between the Taylorville kids and me. [Click here for the full story.]