Everything's gonna be alright...

Some years ago -- 26 to be exact -- I was so financially embarrassed I could not afford a car. That was of little consequence to me at the time because I wasn’t all that materialistic anyway. On the other hand, I was a bit of a wimp about physical discomfort.

In those days, 26 years ago, after working my first 8-hour job, I would ride the bus to the gym and workout for 2-3 hours. Those workouts resulted in my accumulating a good amount of muscle mass. After my daily workouts, I would board another bus and ride to my second job on the outskirts of the city. It was a long ride and a good place to recover from the earlier rigors of the day. Usually, a nap was in order during the long ride. On completion of my second job, around 2:00 a.m. in the morning hours, I would run to the bus stop to catch the last bus headed back towards town and my apartment.

Situationally, I had no family, no interpersonal relationships, no pets, and no friends. Often, as I stood waiting on that last bus in the dark, I questioned the value of living. By that point in my day, I was thoroughly exhausted physically, not to mention being emotionally depleted. I was merely a young adult who worked his rear off all day, spent two hours in the gym between jobs and ended the day alone while waiting for the last bus home. Quite often, in those times, as I waited alone in the dark on that bus, my eyes would well up with tears. I was always glad there was nobody around to see. I was pretty sure musclemen didn’t cry. Not ever. It just didn’t happen. Those tears came without my permission. I can remember the ache in my eyes from holding them back.

What does all this have to do with “Everything’s gonna be alright?” Coming right up…

My only friends in those days were people I met in my daily comings and goings. People at MacDonald’s, and people like the bus drivers I saw in my endless commutes on public transportation. Generally, I was the only rider on the late night runs. Usually, the drivers were eager to talk, and I was eager to talk to someone. One evening, a new driver showed up. A 40-something, handsome, black man with a great smile and an aura of personal confidence that was noticeable.

The first night I boarded his bus, he greeted me as if I were his long lost son returning home. He said to me: “Everything’s gonna be alright, son, come on in and sit down.” This is at 2:0 a.m. in the morning when things are already surreal! Frankly, I was pretty apprehensive. I had spent a long time drying the tears off my face and had summoned my best smile. How could he have known I needed to hear that? How, how how?

And night, after night, after night, when I boarded his bus, he always greeted me with those same words. “Everything’s gonna be alright.” Soon, I started to believe it. To this day, those words echo in my ears when things get rough. Not only was he right, but I carry that message to anyone who needs to hear it. Everything’s gonna be alright.