George Quincy Adams

I have written about extraordinary people in my life that have touched my heart and enlightened my soul. In this column, you will meet a man who will always be a legend in my life. His name was George Quincy Adams and he will forever be in my heart.

The first time Quincy came to our home, I eyed him suspiciously because of appearance. Woman and children he encountered would react by screaming and running and men would stare awkwardly. I did neither, which made him extremely happy.

Quincy was a very young man when he entered the army. He had graduated medical school and, by all rights, was a doctor. This fact did not deter him from his military duty or his patriotism. He became a foot soldier in combat instead of a military doctor. He marched in horrible weather and was involved in many battles. His last battle left him scarred for life physically and mentally. It would cast him into a solitary world where very few could look past his scars.

I was neither scared of him nor did I stare at him as if he was different. I could see the energy around him was good and loving. Looking even deeper in him, I could see loneliness and a sense of loss behind his deep brown eyes. Yet no one ever truly heard Quincy complain. He was an exceptional man.

His rare visits to our home became almost a nightly ritual. Mom and Dad gave him the recliner as his chair to sit and watch television with us every night. Usually he would eat dinner with us and chat about what happened in our small rural community or tell us of events in his workday.

Every night Quincy would bring me something and teach me lessons. Every new type of fruit or vegetable was brought so his "Baby Girl" could try it. He would find inventions, books, or treasures and would appear nightly to give to me so I could be experience the outside world. I can still remember the first night he pulled out his new reading glasses while blushing and exclaiming, "Well, if I am going to help you with your homework I need to be able to see the questions better". He smiled and went on looking at the book while I inspected his face with his new glasses. I wonder now if he thought it strange I would inspect how he looked with glasses on but never reacted to his scarred face that had most of its features burnt off.

One night we were watching a movie after Mom, Dad, Quincy, and I had shared a couple of 16oz RC Colas. I was stretched out on the floor in front of the television watching it

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