Woke up at 5:37 this morning to catch the train the Burbank. Sat delayed at Union Station for ~2 hours due to a fatal accident near the Burbank station.

Sadly 2 hours is long enough to make you forget how morbid and rueful a fatal accident is (I believe that’s the euphemism for suicide) and obsess with how to get a gaggle of squawking teenage girls to shut up for just 2 minutes.

Coming back tonight, the 7:05pm train simply never showed up. Finally caught the 9 something train. If I’m lucky I’ll be home by 1am.

The silver lining was meeting Thomas. Thomas is, or claims to be, a former marine, a veteran of Vietnam and the first gulf war, and a traveler of 48 of the United States and much of the world.

Thomas’s story was so fantastical it’s tempting to dismiss him as a wandering drunk. Which, actually, he admitted to being.

Thomas served in Vietnam in 1969. I’d have guessed he was late 30’s, maybe early 40’s, but he said he’s turning 57 soon. That would’ve made him 18 in 1969.

He has 4 brothers. Or had. 3 lost their lives in battle, one is serving in Iraq now.

He was healthy until the first Iraq war. He was caught in a firefight and ended up with a replaced hip, a mostly replaced right leg, and a partially damaged left leg. He was discharged, opening the door for his brothers to serve.

He was remarkably healthy looking. A thick, bushy beard and excellent control of his facilities despite his obvious inebriation.

He’s traveling the US to “see what he fought for”. “These people have no idea what goes on out there. They have no idea what it means to fight a war”.

It wasn’t worth it. If he had it to do again he’d give it all up for one more day with all of his brothers.

His mother had passed away while he was in Iraq. He was on his way to her old house. He wasn’t in any particular hurry; his plans for the night were to find a drink and “play”.

Come November he’ll get his “inheritance”. He’s planning on leaving the US. He’s thinking Syria.

I recommended Costa Rica. He said he loved the water there. He also liked the Philippines, the snorkeling.

I also mentioned Lebanon; my brother was very impressed with the place.

Thomas had lost friends in the 1983 Beirut bombing, so he wasn’t particularly fond of the place.

He said a lot of interesting things. One that struck me - the world’s not getting smaller, there’s just less in it.

He carried a plain-English bible and asked me to read a passage. He prayed for me.

He didn’t ask for money. He didn’t ask for anything actually.

If he has lost 3 brothers in battle, and I do believe that he has, what an incredible sacrifice for a family to make.

There was a depth and genuineness to him that made it difficult to picture him killing someone. My prayers are with him. I hope that he does get his inheritance, and that he finds happiness beyond drinking.