© 2010 - Bruce Gaughran
On the last
evening of a managers’ meeting in Seattle, we had a group dinner. Six managers from different regions of the
country were assigned to each table.
During dinner, Rosemary, our product development manager, started
telling us about a great book she had just finished. Paul, our Coated Paper mill manager,
mentioned he had just finished reading it also.
That revelation started a fifteen minute conversation about the book.
At the airport the
following morning while waiting for my departure, I walked through the gift
shop and happened to see the book Rosemary had mentioned. Intrigued from the conversation the previous
evening and knowing I had a six-hour flight ahead of me, I bought it (something I would normally not do ... too
expensive). Because it had been a
long week, I upgraded to First Class and was looking forward to a comfortable
and quiet flight home.
Two hours into
the flight, an attendant walked by and asked what I was reading. I was a hundred pages into the book by now
and knew I was reading a love story (something
I would not normally read). I was
more the Ludlum, Clancy, Follett, Vince Flynn and Graham Greene kind of
guy. I turned the book over so she could
see the title.
To my surprise,
she blurts out, “My God, I loved that
book!” Several people around me
looked over to see what I was reading.
She then went on, “I cried and cried while reading it. I must have gone through a box of Kleenex. My husband kept on asking me what was wrong,
but I could not even begin to explain the emotions that this book brought out
of me.”
I stuffed the
book in the seat pocket in front of me and hoped this conversation would end soon. Unfortunately, the flight attendant was just
getting started and all the passengers around me were now even more interested
in our discussion. She went on by
saying, “I hope I won’t ruin the story for you, but when Robert said, ‘This
kind of certainty only comes once in a lifetime,’ I was an emotional
wreck. Then, near the end, when Robert
was standing in the pouring rain a few yards from Francesca, waiting, silently asking,
pleading for her to leave her husband and go away with him, I just knew she
would.”
By now, the
attendant was dabbing the tears out of her eyes and I was slinking further down
into my seat. My shirt collar felt damp
and my mouth was as dry as desert sand, but the attendant was not the least bit
embarrassed. “That last scene when
Robert was at the stoplight and Francesca and her husband were right behind him
was incredible. When she grabbed the
door handle and was ready to jump out of the truck and run to Robert, I was cheering
her on. ‘Yes, YES, YES ... You go girl!’ My husband thought I was crazy, but I could
not help myself.”
At that moment,
I wish I could have hidden under the seat.
Thankfully the attendant realized that she had been talking to me for
some time and needed to get back to work.
She patted me on the shoulder and commented, “This book made me laugh,
cry, cheer, and so much more. What a
wonderful book. Just seeing you reading
it makes me want to read it again.”
As the attendant
walked away, the passenger beside me and the one across the aisle asked what
book I was reading. I sheepishly pulled
the book out and showed it to them.
It was, “The
Bridges of Madison County,” by Robert J. Waller. It is a good story as well as a good love
story. I also enjoyed the movie. Who doesn’t like Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep?
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