Along Came Mary (And Emil)

One of the greatest things in life is those rare moments when people meet and find themselves irrevocably connected in a way that defies explanation. I've gotten lucky enough to experience that rarity a time or two and this story is one of my favorite.

The year was 1999 and I had just opened a pet shop. There weren't any others in the area, it was a good excuse to play with animals all day, and since I was already doing wildlife rehabilitation, it was a natural extension of my love for all things wild & free, with the bonus of having wholesale access to supplies to keep helping injured and abandoned wild ones.

One day while tending the shop, I had just finished bandaging my first alligator bite, and was walking around with my African Grey, Thunder on my shoulder. He was fresh born and is now 21 years old and has a mouth like a sailor. And he'll kick your ass. At least he says he's going to.

As soon as I stepped in front of the door, this very little old lady walked in and stopped in her tracks and stared at me. Right in the eyes. At first, I thought she was afraid of the bird (a surprising number of people are), and I was going to put him away and she said "what a pretty bird!". I smiled and said hello and told her my name and asked if I could help her.

Mary reached up and touched my face and said "Well Scott, a handsome devil like you could help me with a lot of things!" She giggled, I turned red. She told me her name was Mary Carlson. In the year 1999, Mary was 85 years old. It was even more odd with her being that old and me being a rough & tumble type with long hair and tattoo's. 

After I put Thunder away and composed myself, I asked if she was looking for anything in particular and she said she wasn't. She just stopped to see if I knew anyone who might have space and want a Pygmy goat. "White, cute as a button, too playful" for her and loved head butting, but he'd knock her over. Turns out he wasn't entirely Pygmy. 

I did not know of anyone looking for a goat. Goats were one of the few animals I had no experience with outside of the petting zoo. But it was an animal in need of a new home.

I asked her if I could look at him, maybe take a picture (the kind you still had to have developed) to hang in the shop and see.

"Paper please" she said. I obliged and included a pen and she wrote down her address and phone number.

"Now all you have to do my new handsome friend, is go down 13 to Buttercup, take a left and go X number of miles and turn right and look for the flowers. If you go fast enough, you'll go over a hump in the road that'll flip your belly and you're almost there. Make sure you call first, I'm out and about quite often."

I knew the exact type of hump in the road she was talking about and was a little excited because it had been quite awhile since I'd had that experience.

One day, I called, went out, sped my ass off down the road since I didn't know exactly where the hump was, but I definitely found it.

I turned and looked for flowers, but saw nothing but farmland and roadside trees. And there it was.

Mary's house.

A two story brick house that was very old. It was also covered, roof to ground with red flowers. I cannot remember what kind of vines she had, but they covered the entire front and side of the house! I pulled in, saw the barns and pens and knew I had arrived when Mary walked out the back door in her work clothes, barn coat, hat & big old boots.

I got out of the car and she came up and hugged me, stepped on her tip toes and kissed me on the cheek! "Hey good lookin'! That's a Hank Williams song ya know. Do you know it?" I replied, "Not only do I know it Ms. Mary, I've been known to play it with my Dad when the guitars come out!" "Oh, you are something, aren't you?" I turned red again.

"And it's actually Mrs., but don't you worry about that! Do you want to meet the Old Coot or the goat first?"

I told her whatever she felt like. She told me the goat was more interesting and took me to the pen he was in. Pure white, big little horns and a beard. Looked like a miniature mountain goat. She opened the gate, the goat backed up, reared up, and head butted me in the leg, and backed up to do it again! I let him, but replaced my leg as the target with my open hand. He smacked into it a couple times and walked away to get some hay. Came back looking some one chewing a blade of grass and pondering.

"Well, you should come and meet Emil before he suspects anything!"

She led me to the bigger barn and told me it used to be full of cows, but they had gotten rid of them because they were too much for them. Emil was even older than Mary.

"Emil! Look sharp, my new boyfriend is here!"

He laughed and came to shake my hand. What a great guy. He just had something that made you like him instantly.

They teased each other quite a bit and told me about the farm and how long they'd been together. There farm was actually two in one. Emil had his family farm and then Mary bought the one next door.

Neighbors being neighbors, and farmers being farmers, helping hands turned into hands to hold in front of the wood burner at the end of the day. They never had a television. No use for it. No time. They had their farm, their animals, a radio, a phonograph and early to bed, early to rise. The most simple existence of two people I've ever witnessed.

"So what about that goat? Did you bring your camera?" I replied that I had and we could go back to the pen. I walked in and the goat sort of sat there like a dog. When I put my hand out like had previously, he leaped up and head butted it again, then let me pet him and I massaged his neck and he looked at me with love in his eyes, and that was it.

"Gonna take a picture?". 

"Nope", I said. "I'll take him".

"In your STORE?"

"Nope, I've got a few acres and an old wood shed I can set up and put a fence around it for him."

Well, long story short, I named him Loony (because he was loony) and went home, turned the shed into a goat barn and put up a fence.

I went to visit Mary & Emil & Loony frequently while getting things ready so he'd get used to me.

I'd spend lots of time with Mary. She'd bring me in the house and tell me stories about her life before the farm. She'd tell Emil she was going to leave him for me, and he'd tell her "he'd kick you out the second day like I should have!" Incredible love between those two.

Mary was "out & about often" because at 85 years old, she worked frequently at the nursing home. "Gotta make sure the old folks are taken care of ya know?"

When the goat kingdom was ready, I went to get Loony. In a little GEO Tracker. Popped him in the back seat. Road like a dog. Got him home and let him get used to things. The dogs were a bit stand offish at first, then I guess they were friends. From his pen he could see where I went when I left.

One day I hear a crash at the front door.

Loony found a spot in the fence he could get out of, marched himself up the steps and head butted the screen door. Thankfully the metal part.

Opened the door and there he was. The dogs were in the house and didn't bark or anything so, why not? I opened the door and let him in. He played with the dogs, and when the playing was done, they all jumped up on the couch. It was hilarious. I kept giving him saltines so he'd be too busy eating to crash around the house.

My wife at the time came home and said "Tell me the goat is not in the house". I said, "ok, the goat is not in the house!".

I kept going back to see Mary and sit and talk about things that I would have never imagined myself talking to an old lady about, and she was absolutely happy to call me any time her & Emil had anything that needed doing that they couldn't do anymore. Hard work has never before or since been such a pleasure.

Time passed, Emil died, I moved away and never saw Mary again, though I thought of her often and always intended to visit some illusive "someday". 

I have some regrets there, but I do know the last time I saw her she said "I just love you Handsome" and I said "I love you too Mrs. Mary". I know that because it had become our regular farewell by then.

In 2009 Mary died. I did not know until later. Probably 2011 I ran into my ex-wife (who I've always remained friends with) and she properly prepared me for bad news and told me.

After that, I kept meaning to find out where she was buried, and take a trip to her beautiful flower house (I literally just typoed "our beautiful flower house" and corrected it) to see if it was being taken care of. "Someday" can get out of reach.

One day I was out driving around. I live much closer to where she lived now. I like to drive around and take roads I've never taken. Somehow, from the opposite way I knew, I ended up on her road. I recognized the markers from Emil's farm. Left turn now.

As I drove down the road, two of the old barns came into view and my heart just started beating. I couldn't see the house, but it was set back in the trees, so I had to pull into the driveway.

Mary's beautiful flower house was, gone. A square of dirt and wild growth was all that was there.

Not gonna lie, I cried a little bit.

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I went home and looked for her obituary, and found it.

I was a little disappointed because, while it was good, it missed a lot about Mary.

Particularly that she didn't just like horses. Back in her young days she was a champion rider and trainer of Tennessee Walkers. Fancy costumes and daring feats and, man I wish I could remember the stories and I really wish I could see her photo albums and scrap books again.

I don't even want to think about what happened to those, given what happened to the house and she had very little remaining family.

She was crazy loving and caring and kind and no BS whatsoever. If I was talking to her and gave her any indication of feeling sorry for myself she'd let me have it. With love of course.

I can't explain our relationship. It was certainly not romantic (not really anyway), it wasn't like I was the son she never had, and we were certainly not just acquaintances. It was just awesome, whatever it was, and whatever remains.

When I read her obituary, I knew where she was and I went out there. Her & Emil share a flat stone, and I swear, the first place I stopped in that whole cemetery was right in front of their graves. I'm not kidding.

One thing I really dislike about life, and particularly the end of it, is people being forgotten. It's no ones fault, it just happens.

One thing I really like about writing about people is, as long as my words exist, they aren't forgotten.

I knew Mary, I loved Mary and now anyone who reads this will maybe know and love her a little bit too.

I will never forget Mary. My Mary.

​I hope she's a little bit your Mary now too.

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