For those of you that have been following my column, you will be familiar with the true story of myself being the first on the scene of an accident.   “I am thinking of you” describes an event two years ago when my friend and I noticed smoke coming from a truck in the trees off Midshipman Drive.   I ended up holding a man’s hand for nearly two hours until he was pulled from his truck’s dashboard that had crushed down on his legs.

Well I am pleased to say I was reunited with this man recently, actually just this past Sunday. True to my promise and his, we met down at Tony Macaroni’s on Taino Beach. I had no idea this person was Tony’s cousin!

After writing the last piece I was contacted by persons commenting on the article, but only one of those persons said they actually knew who this man was. 

“His name is Matthew Missick”, said one, “and he works down at the Container Port”. It was this same person that finally contacted Matthew and told him how to reach me.  I finally received the email from Matthew and it was a delightful surprise. We set up our meeting and he said, “Look for the man walking with a limp”.

Matthew bought me that promised beer and we shared our own perspectives of that night. I did not know that he had hydroplaned on a patch of water before loosing control and hitting the tree.  I had recalled a company logo on his shirt but did not know that it was BORCO for whom he was coming home from work for.  He was there  for 34 years.

I did not know that he had lost 60% of his blood that night through the damage to his left leg. Nor that he went to Nassau and later to Florida before coming home to Grand Bahama for final recovery. After he was back on his feet and walking (he will never be able to bend his left knee) he returned to BORCO but his position was long replaced. Looking for something new he decided to take a job at the Container Port with the Mediterranean Shipping Company, and still works there today.  

AND, I did not know that Matthew only lives about five blocks from me!

Life is a mystery, and Matthew was lucky that night. He showed me the photo on his cell phone screen of one of his children, his son, who died in a road accident at the tender age of twelve.  

And just three days after Matthew’s email to me, a dear friend of mine died, and guess where?   Yes, Midshipman Road, but more on that another time.

We finished our drinks, and Matthew looked at his watch.   “I must go now” he said, “let’s keep in touch.”

And then he placed his hand on mine and said, “It was good to meet my angel”.

"We can all be angels to one another. We can choose to obey the still small stirring within, the little whisper that says,   Go.  Ask. Reach out.  Be an answer to someone's plea. You have a part to play. Have faith. We can decide to risk that He is indeed there, watching, caring, cherishing us as we love and accept love. And the world will be a better place for it.”   -Joan Wester Anderson