13 Best Boys' Outerwear Jackets

Bestselling Boys' Outerwear Jackets in 2023

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The Value of Understanding

We all see the world very differently. Some may look at an turquoise jacket and call it a blue coat; some may look at a comedy and see it as a tragedy. We must understand this if we are to get along with others in our ambiguous world.

I seriously considered not answering the door.

Finally, I saw the policeman who had been at my door walking away. There had been no banging. No, "Open up, police!" No gun shots. I decided it was probably safe to open the door after all.

The officer turned around when he heard my front door open. "Do you live here?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Can I get your name?"

"Sure."

"Telephone number? Cell phone? Birth date?"

"What's going on?" I asked.

"We found a dead body behind your house."

Oh. Maybe I should have stayed in bed after all.

"Does anyone use the service road out there?" he asked me.

"Huh? What happened? Was it a man, a woman, a child? Was someone raped? A neighbor of mine?" Is there a killer on the loose, I wondered, who just happens to think that my backyard is a great place for dumping bodies?

"He was found between that white truck and that row of trees. Is that your property?"

Oh my gosh. "Yes."

"Who all uses the service road?"

Service road? "What service road?"

"The one over there, by the barbed-wire fence."

Barbed-wire fence? Now, I've lived in this house for 30 years, and I'm pretty sure there's neither a service road nor a barbed-wire fence anywhere near.

"Barbed-wire fence? Where, again?"

"Right there," he insisted. He was getting impatient. Did he think I was holding something back? "C'mon, let me show you."

I led him through my living room and out the back door. He began walking through my yard and pointing. "This service road. Right here. By the fence."

Oh. Okay, well there is a small fence -- though barbed-wire it is most decidedly not. And next to the fence is a long driveway, which is a road of sorts, I suppose. A service road, whatever that means? I don't think so.

"Oh," I said. "Sure, we use it."

"Does anyone else ever use it?"

I thought for a moment. "I certainly hope not. Why?"

"Well, it's possible that someone may have driven down this service road to get to the back of your property, where they dumped the body."

Wonderful. My day was just getting better and better. "And the body's there, between the truck and the trees?"

"Yep." We began to walk back through my house to the front door.

"Any idea who it was? Man? Woman? Young? Old?"

"White male." The officer gave me his card and thanked me for my time.

I shut the door behind him and turned to look out the back door. More police cars, many more, with officers, detectives, and various evidence-gathering-type-people were swarming around my property like bees, carefully combing the area. I decided to walk out and take a look for myself.

As I approached the back of my property, a number of officers pointed at me and shouted. "Don't!"

I approached a detective. "I live here," I said. "What's going on?"

"A couple of joggers noticed a body in the creek back there, and called 911."

"They found the body over there, you mean, between the truck and the trees."

"No, in the creek behind the trees."

Creek? Well, that's good to know, I thought, that means it's not on my property after all. I couldn't even think of where the nearest creek was, anyway.

"Who was he?" I asked. Could it be someone I knew?

"We don't know yet," the detective replied. "The body's lying face down in the creek, and we haven't gotten to it yet. Right now, we're just carefully collecting any possible evidence we can find around the general vicinity. It will be hours before we get to the body."

Really. So where did I get the idea it was a white male, I wondered. And how do you know he (or she) is even dead?

"I'd like to ask you not to walk around here, so as not to disturb any evidence -- footprints, for example."

I lifted up my foot and looked at the bottom of my shoe. "Was his skull bashed in?"

The officer frowned. Alright, not the best question to ask when they've just found a dead body in your backyard. "How did you get here?" he asked.

"I live here. I came out my back door."

"No, what exact route did you walk to get right here where you are now standing? Did you walk through the cornfield?"

Cornfield?? Now, I can assure you that there is no cornfield anywhere remotely near my property. I nearly laughed out loud when he pointed to a bunch of overgrown weeds I had been trying to ignore for some time now. "No, sir, I didn't walk through the cornfield. I walked through the garden, over there, behind the garage." I showed him my exact route.

The officer asked me to please walk back the same way, and he gave me his business card.

I went back out to the front of my house. My neighbors were beginning to gather around, and yellow police tape had been put up. I walked up to one of the policemen. "I live here," I said. "What's going on?"

"There's a report of a dead body in that ditch under your trees."

Oh, the ditch. My ditch. There was no creek involved, after all. And it was on my property. Lovely. "Any idea who it was, or what happened?"

"We really don't know yet, ma'am. I realize that this is your property and you must have a lot of questions. As soon as we find out more, I'll let you know." He took my name and number, which, by the way, I had already given to three other officers.

"Thanks," I said. "I would definitely appreciate being kept up-to-date on the investigation."

I went to talk to my neighbors. When I returned home, several long, gossipy hours later, the police were gone. Vanished. Completely disappeared, without a trace. I poked around out back a bit, looked around by the trees and the ditch and my truck, but I found nothing.

I haven't heard anything at all from the police, and for some strange reason I don't expect to. But I would still very much like to know what happened. For I have a number of questions.

Who was that unfortunate dead man (or possibly woman), whose body was found either near my truck, in some creek behind the trees, or in the ditch under the trees?

Did someone drive down the service road by the barbed-wire fence, then unceremoniously dump the body in the ditch?

Or, had something sinister occurred in the cornfield?

We talk to people every single day. But do we have any clue at all whether they really understand us, or whether we understand them? Do we have any idea at all what's going on in the minds of others in our lives -- in our families, at work, in the world? I've experienced misunderstandings, and the problems that go along with them, many, many times in my life. Perhaps if we only realized how differently two minds can think, we could accept these misunderstandings more easily. Perhaps we could get along with others better if we realized that they see the world through totally different eyes than we do. Perhaps our world would be a more peaceful one if we knew and truly appreciated how simple misunderstandings can cause some of the world's biggest problems.

Perhaps we should try.