Many years ago when I was a 20 year old, college dropout, I was living in Newport, Rhode Island, the home to the America’s Cup sailboat races and where billionaires built their summer mansions. Although the city appeared to drip with wealth, there was also a lot of poverty. I lived in the poverty part of town.
My roommates and I each worked two or three jobs. All the jobs were terrible, but we were able to pay the rent and the utilities. I also tried to put a little bit away with the hopes of returning to college. Although we wanted to “hit the town” on weekends, to save money, we would have a few beers at home and then head out to the local pubs later in the evening. One place that we frequented, The Newport Tavern, had very cheap beer and a pool table that was broken so you could play for free. The place smelled of cigarettes and stale beer with hints of fisherman mixed in.
Normally we walked to The Newport Tavern, but to get there you had to loop around an entire block that was closed off with a 6 foot high concrete wall. One day, my roommate Jimmy climbed onto that wall and looked over. He saw that there was another wall, the same height as the outer wall, which intersected the entire block. He realized that we could bypass walking around the block by walking on top of the wall.
Keep in mind, 20 year old males are very stupid, and they possess an unrealistic sense of invulnerability. Walking atop a six foot high wall, 10 inches wide and 75 feet long is barely a challenge for a 20 year old male. Walking on that wall with rusted scrap metal piled on one side and broken glass on the other was a moderate challenge for a 20 year old. However, about half way across this wall, a live power line hung down so you had to squat to cross under it. Naturally, crossing the wall to get to the pub became the challenge. But crossing the wall after leaving the pub, was even more of a challenge.
One time after leaving The Newport Tavern, I was crossing the wall alone. As I started to squat to get under the powerline, I looked to my left at the piles of rusted scrap metal, then to my right at the shards of broken glass. (This really happened). Some may call it an epiphany moment, but I was able to see that there were choices that you could make that would put you on the right path and there were choices that would put you on the wrong path. You could choose to be cut by broken glass, wounded by rusted metal or electrocuted. Or, you could choose to stay on the sidewalk and eliminate the risk.
I thought about the choices for a minute, then I turned around and went back. I never crossed that wall again. Sometimes we recognize that changes need to be made and we make them. Sometimes we choose not to make the changes. Other times, we simply cannot see that anything needs to change. I was lucky, I saw the signs and moved on with my life.
Many years later after I had moved away and graduated from college, I went back to the The Newport Tavern. I ran into Jimmy who was sitting at the bar. We talked about old times and we talked about crossing the wall to get to the Pub. Jimmy never stopped walking across the wall… until they knocked it down to build a hotel. The Pub didn’t smell like cigarettes anymore, but it still smelled of stale beer and fisherman.
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