128: Four Corners

23:29Keanu's at the top. What should he do? He looks up. A police helicopter. He looks down. A police boat. He crawls into the bottom of the bridge as it's lowered and ducks into a garbage truck to safety. When he meets his fellow shapely fugitive who nervously awaits him at the train station, the conductor asks, what took you so long? To which Keanu deadpans, The bridge was up.

24:01Up, down, north, south, whatever. The point is that the bridge was. Right at the center of attention, in the middle of the action, at the hub. We used to ship grain from this corner. Now that entertainment is America's second biggest export, the product we ship is Keanu. I don't know what you're talking about. Jesus.

24:29Sarah Val, if you like that story, you'll like even more. her seven books that feel a lot like that about American history and culture. This story is collected in her great book of essays, Take the Cannoli.

24:43Our program today, about four different visions of America told at four different street corners across the country. We have arrived at Act II. Love. For Scott Richer and Julie Riggs, at the corner where South 4th Street in Louisville, Kentucky, meets the alley behind the West End Baptist Church, things between them changed forever and irrevocably. I think it built and built continually until it got to the point that brought us to the corner where everything was so outrageous. Our emotions were so careening wildly out of control that all we had to do was stand there and look at each other for it to be a monumental event in our lives.

25:32The situation was, Scott and I had been madly obsessed with each other for years, but we had always just been friends. And I was in a relationship at the time. So on the summer day, in this time in our relationship, in our friendship, when we were just friends, I stopped by his apartment or his house over on Broadway to visit him. Yeah, and we had a really nice afternoon. I think we hadn't seen each other for a few weeks, But when we saw each other, we always laughed and always had fun and always made each other happy. And then, Scott, was this a day for you that was like a particular torture?

26:11Uh-huh. A lot of days when she came over, it was fun, but it was bittersweet. She's always able to go away from it being happy, being like, oh, that was so much fun. And meanwhile, I'm sitting there going, this, this is horrible. You know, how can she be happy about what's happening here? It was almost like twisting the knife. It was like, ah!

26:47So then I got in my little red Volkswagen and left and said goodbye. I was sitting on the back porch of our house. This is a very Kentucky setting, a steamy, hot summer afternoon. And my roommate Jason came out and sat down and could tell that I was affected by emotion. And he said something to the effect of, sometimes you would rather have a feast or famine. I think it was something about a drought or a flood. A drought or a flood, yes, yes. So I decided, well, enough of this then. And I decided to take the gamble, and I got in my car and raced down Broadway in afternoon traffic, weaving in and out of cars, trying to catch her.

27:45And I'm just cruising along. I had left like 15 minutes before that, I think. Yeah, I had promised myself, well, if I catch up to her before we get to Central Park, then I'll pull her over and I'm going to kiss her.

28:04And I did catch her like right at Central Park. Right at Central Park. I'm driving in my car and I look over and there he is. And he's like, pull over, pull over. I'm like, what's going on? Completely confused. So I pull over into this parking lot right on the corner into this South End Baptist Church parking lot. And we both got out of our cars. And we just kind of stood leaning against our respective cars, just kind of making not even small talk. It was just like everything around us kind of stopped and nothing moved. And it was impossible to describe. Everything around you stopped and nothing moved?

28:55It was like, you know, like in a movie or in a dream, if you're having a dream and everything's spinning really quickly. And then all of a sudden, just the one spot where you're standing stays still.

29:12I have no idea what happened there. We both felt something tremendously powerful. Our hearts were racing so fast, and all the background noise just kind of drops out, and all the colors get really saturated. So then you kissed her? No. No, nothing happened. He just stood there.

29:44well something must have happened because we're here talking about it now so what exactly did happen next i think what god i don't know there was something something happened but it just seemed to me it seemed like being there that was my confirmation that there was something definitely still going on inside Julie that involved me. Everything wasn't hopeless. And every time I'd drive by the parking lot, and I actually went there at least twice that I'm sure Scott doesn't know about, but I'm just sitting in the parking lot thinking, God.

30:30So here our story ends. Julie's old boyfriend lived a block from the corner, so she passed it every time she went to see him and thought about that moment with Scott and finally ditched the boyfriend. She and Scott had been together for three years and now lived together. The funny thing about the situation was it wasn't the first time that we were destined to have our first kiss and missed it. Really? Because we were in Paris together eight months earlier and we're having a really great time and stayed up really late one night in the corridor of a youth hostel in Paris talking and we should have kissed then, but we didn't.

31:10Because you were with the other guy. Because of the other guy. Yes, even after I broke up with the guy. It still took so long. Really? Yes. How come? I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it to be something. You wanted to wait until springtime upon a beautiful cliff somewhere. And, you know, I thought, well, when we were in Paris, I thought, well, oh, there's the other guy, and we're in Paris, and you're supposed to fall in love in Paris, so we can't do it here. It's so typical to be in Paris. Oh, our first kiss was in Paris. I didn't want to be a Hallmark card. You only have one opportunity to have your first kiss with someone.

31:55And you miss so many of them.

32:02They finally had their first kiss in Scott's living room. She had to make the first move. Coming up, dogs, dead people, and a mystery, and what it takes to become an American. That's in a minute from Chicago Public Radio, when our program continues.

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33:42Don't just survive this summer. Thrive. Visit betterhelp.com slash T-A-L. It is American Life. I'm Ira Glass. Each week on our program, of course, we choose a theme, bring you a variety of stories on that theme. Today's program is a rerun, Four Corners. We attempt to bring you a portrait of life in America by telling four different stories of four different street corners in four different parts of the country. So far in our program, we've heard about the past, we've heard about matters of the heart, and now we have arrived at Act III, Neighbors. Mike Paterniti has this story of what makes a community in a cemetery in Portland, Maine, whose entrance stands at the corner of Vaughn and Clifford.

34:21The West End Cemetery is full of old Dead Sea captains and soldiers from the War of 1812, kids that died of cholera, and wives who after six or eight or ten children just gave up. There are rich people under monuments, the Longfellow family in a vault, and paupers without so much as a wooden marker. No one's been buried here since the middle of this century, and so the place has fallen into disrepair. You see a lot of the marble and shell headstones and puzzle pieces on the ground or standing at crooked attention. About 10 years ago, the cemetery was a popular hangout for prostitutes and junkies, but now it's just dogs and their owners.

35:08When I first moved to town a couple years ago with my girlfriend Sarah, we walked our dog in the cemetery. There was this guy there named Jeff, a big, brawny American Indian from the Duckwater tribe, I think, who sort of qualified as my first friend in Portland. He told me how he grew up in Nevada and was adopted by white parents and then raised in a little redneck town where people didn't really like Indians. He'd moved around a lot, and I pictured him as I was now, the stranger in a strange place. He walked with me in the cemetery sometimes twice a day, whatever the weather. Or rather, we were both being walked by our dogs.

35:44His was a wolf mix named Kiana with a vacant, slightly menacing glint in her eye. who like to rough up young puppies. And mine is a simple mutt named Trout, whose passion for chasing squirrels follows her lifelong commitment to rolling in poop.

36:06It seemed like Jeff was always at the cemetery, sometimes up to eight hours in a row. He said he worked at night, supposedly for a local scuba diving outfit, and that's why he had so much free time during the day. He told stories, endless stories, about his high school football exploits and the blown-out knee that ended his college career at safety. He talked about fishing, how he gillnetted in the rivers of southeast Alaska, and then how he and his girlfriend had bought a house, and now they weren't together anymore. And she had the house, and he was here, a country away, walking his dog with people like me.

36:41He didn't seem angry at all. No, in fact, he seemed happy. Like every day he was as happy as he'd been the day before. And because of it, he was good at drawing people out, at connecting the various factions inside the cemetery so that everyone stood around, nodding dumbly, listening to Jeff, our oblivious mare, holding forth on Kiana's new collar, her perfect shampoo, while Kiana took her pound of flesh out of some hapless pup.

37:15This was not the way things usually worked in the cemetery. The mere fact that I knew Jeff's name was unusual. Usually, people didn't interact that much. Instead, we knew each other by handles. There was Dalmatian Man, father of three speckled dogs, one to whom he spoke in sign language. There was a greyhound lady, regally walking her trio of greyhounds until the day that Lightning, her beloved, dove through a plate-glass window during a thunderstorm and died. There was the man who walks and reads, and Frisbee Dude. and the lawn chair family, an old father and his 50-something son who daily set up their folding chairs near the cemetery gate and the pickup artist around whom no one was safe.

37:55And there was Crazy Shouting Man, owner of three ragtag mutts and an elder statesman of the cemetery, who when I finally talked to him wasn't Crazy Shouting Man at all. His name was Al. There were loads of people up there that I see all the time. Some of them I've been seeing for years, and I don't know their names. I recognize them. They recognize me. We talk about all sorts of things. And it just never really occurs to you to ask their name because you know their dog's name. Right.

38:30I mean, as a matter of fact, I've always had these funny occasions where you run into people that you've talked to a lot at the cemetery and you meet them somewhere. We were down at Granny Killam's when it was open one night. This woman came over and said, Al, how are you? how's the dogs, how's all this and I was with a bunch of friends and I thought and this is and I realized I had not it wasn't that I had forgotten her name it was that I had never known her name I knew her dog I mean I had no idea and it was, I mean this was not somebody that I just knew very casually this was somebody I probably walked with three or four mornings a week but you always find you know a lot more dogs than you know people which I think says something about who's worth knowing anyway.

39:22Even today what strikes me as amazing about the cemetery is that there are people here, people who show up twice a day and see other people here twice a day for years and many of them just don't know each other's real name let alone what the other does for a living or dreams of at night or loves or hates. They just know each other's dog's name. So when they refer to one another, they might say, Circe's mom said milk bones are full of preservatives, which is why she cooks her own. Or when they bump into each other downtown Christmas shopping, they'll say, Elroy's mom. And then with nothing left to say, say, Uh, how goes it?

40:07Was this intimacy or a complete lack of intimacy? Sometimes it felt like both at once. You had the warmth of intimacy and the comfort of hiding behind your dog. And yet every day you saw people at their most naked, talking baby talk to their hounds, kneeling to pick up poop. I asked my friend Julie, Ruben's mother, about this. I think you really get a window into people's souls. Like, you watch people very contentedly walking around, throwing the ball, interacting with their dogs, or totally ignoring their dogs, and going at their own pace and every once in a while yelling for their dog. I mean, I really judge people by how they behave toward their dog.

40:53Here's Al again. I mean, when I see people hit a dog, you know, I'm really sort of appalled and amazed that you would do that. Yeah.

41:09I mean, I know who really, really likes their dogs and who doesn't. I know people who've got trophy dogs and people who've got, you know, the scruffiest, ugliest dog, but, you know, they really, really love that dog. Yeah.

41:24I think it was the love part that kept me going back to the cemetery. And then it became my social hour, my escape, where more often than not, I'd find Jeff and Kiana. The minute Jeff realized that I was a writer, he went to the library, and over the course of a week read everything I'd ever written, and then, to my horror, wanted to talk about it. And he did this kind of thing with others, too.

41:52When the leaves began to change during my first October in the West End Cemetery, Jeff was already talking about a Christmas card he was planning, a photograph of Kiana and himself. He brought it up obsessively, about how Kiana was going to have a haircut and shampoo and have her nails clipped, and how he had arranged for a photographer and how they were scouting locations. There were ups and downs in the saga as it played out over weeks. A good location that might not work out the day of the shoot if a nor 'easter hit. The need to time everything just perfectly so that Kiana would leave the beauty parlor and then immediately sit for her picture before she could come back to the cemetery and get muddy.

42:40In retrospect, there were little clues even then that something strange was going on with Jeff. While he said he owned a truck, I only ever saw him at bus stops around town. And the scuba diving. Later, when I called various outfits in Portland, no one had ever heard of him. In the end, he had the photograph taken at Sears. he and Kiana in the stiff, unsmiling pose of a Civil War-era husband and wife, he in his familiar blue sweatshirt hulking behind Kiana, who was perfectly coiffed. He was beaming when he handed the Christmas card to me, literally beaming.

43:23After Christmas, I left the country for several weeks, and when I came back sometime after a massive ice storm, he was nowhere to be found. The cemetery glittered with glazed headstones. It took days to unravel the story because people didn't seem to want to talk about it, didn't seem to want to talk about anything. Everyone just bundled into themselves. And Jeff, he was a very touchy subject, one that suddenly made us all feel defensive. What I learned was this. He'd had health problems, an infection of some kind. He went to the hospital at the same time that he was apparently forced out of his apartment.

44:00Money was tight. He'd asked someone from the cemetery to put him up. Another line crossed, but that hadn't worked out. Kiana was taken to a kennel by Megan, Maddie's mom. And now she was calling the kennel regularly to see if Jeff had picked her up, but he hadn't. Week after week, she called until it was clear that Jeff couldn't or wouldn't pick up Kiana, that he was gone. That's when Kiana was adopted by someone else. Here's Megan. You just, you start talking about this stuff with somebody, and then you realize, I didn't even know this person. Like with Jeff, I mean, it was like you knew everything about his life, but in the end, how much of that was actually true?

44:42And, you know, you didn't even know this person. It was like August to December, and he was gone. But it seemed like forever.

44:56There were completely unsubstantiated rumors that he'd robbed a bank. Someone knew someone whose cousin had seen his photo on a Boston newscast, maybe. But then most people were quick to accept this as fact. In a weird way, I wonder if we felt betrayed. Betrayed because Jeff had broken the simple rules of the cemetery. He'd become too intimate. Now he was gone, and it was hard to say hi, let alone catch someone else's eye. During those dark winter months, the cemetery became a kind of haunted, trustless place. In one of the endless conversations we had about him later, some people worried that he knew where we lived.

45:33Someone threatened to track him down. But what for? So that he might never again bamboozle other hapless dog owners in other seaside towns into chatting about doggy shampoo?

45:50Sarah and I kept the Christmas card on our refrigerator right up until a couple months ago, actually, when it quietly fell to a new rotation of refrigerator photos. We kept it there in hopes, I think, that he would come back and explain where he'd been, for I was pretty certain he couldn't have robbed a bank. And if he had, I told myself, maybe it was because he had to. Maybe he'd been inches from a life he'd imagined for himself. with a dog that gave unconditional love, with friends he was guaranteed to see every day, and he'd had a couple of bad breaks, got sick, ran out of money, lost his dog, and then panicked.

46:31Now time has passed. People come and go, and every six months, the galaxy inside these gates breaks apart and reconfigures. Dogs die, people leave for nursing homes. Others move, more arrive. And every day, today even, people are here walking in spectral circles like they're in Mecca, circling the Kaba. In general, I'd say things are back to the way they were. Intimate but not intimate. We stand around in dumbfounded joy with 10, 20, 30 other gaping grown adults, reveling in the simplicity of stupidly entertaining dog play. Dalmatian man still flashes sign language at his deaf Dalmatian. The pickup artist still works his magic.

47:12The lawn chair family still sets up by the cemetery gate each day and cover their legs with wool blankets.

47:25Fact is, even without somebody like Jeff pulling people together, if you stand on a corner with a bunch of strangers for long enough, eventually something happens that brings you together. Sometimes something small. The other night I went to the cemetery at sunset. There were the same broken headstones, the same sea captains and paupers. And there were all these living people too, who only know me as Trout's dad, or as the guy who stupidly named his dog Trout, or however they see me. The dogs were playing hard, racing in circles, not wanting any of it to end. And a gigantic moon came up. It came up tangerine.

48:02It was the kind of moon that stills everything, and we stood in a circle watching it rise. For a minute or two, we just stood there, glowing orange. The dogs didn't exist at all.

48:21Mike Paternini lives in Portland, Maine. Since we first broadcast this show, dogs are no longer allowed to roam the West End Cemetery with their owners. The whole scene has migrated south to a local beach.

48:36Act four, how to become an American. We have this story about a few of the things that are hard to understand standing on a corner when you come to this country. It's from Accio Bejas. It was exactly noon, and the last of the weekend breakfast crowd filtered out of the diner. From the booth-lined back wall, a young woman made her way to the front to pay her check. She was tall, with reddish-brown hair to her shoulders. She had a tattoo on her left wrist, a delicately etched silver and green double-headed axe. All around her, the busboys and waitresses kept moving, the dishes clattering on the large trays.

49:11Lupe, a voice called from behind her. She turned around, then frowned. Standing next to her was a dark, stocky young man, a few black hairs poking sharply out of his chin. He smiled sheepishly. He carried a tray of improbably balanced plates and glasses. Hello, Raúl, she said, resigned to his recognition. I didn't realize you worked here. Yes, he said, his English too formal, crackling with Spanish underneath. He glanced at the axe on her wrist. Pedro got a job here, then he brought me. I've been here a few months already, so I should be a waiter soon. My English is much better now, don't you think, he asked.

49:54The dishes on the tray rattled as he struggled to keep them from crashing to the floor. Yes, she said, starting out the door of the diner. Raúl hurried to get rid of the tray and followed her out to the corner. She pulled on her sunglasses. I haven't seen you in a long time, he said, now in Spanish. She noticed him studying her hands and made a fist, which caused the axe to expand. I haven't seen you since, well, you know, you said some very cruel things, he continued. But I always look for you anyway, out in the streets, wondering how you are. You could have called. What for? Just then a pair of young men walked around them, one carrying a sheath of flyers, the other a roll of tape and a stapler.

50:38They stopped and put up some of the papers on the telephone pole next to them. The two men, young and girlish, left after they'd layered the pole with announcements about an upcoming dance contest at a local club. Lupe lowered her glasses enough to read and register the information. Raul watched her. Well, you could call sometimes just to call, not for anything in particular, but to let me know how you are. I worry about you, he said. I'm sorry I didn't call, Lupe said. She pushed the glasses back up her nose. It's just that, Raul said, pouting, I mean, we're married after all. Lupe laughed. No, Raul, you're married, she said.

51:21You knew damn well this was just a convenience for me, a business deal. I can't help it that you've spun all these stories for your family. But it's not right, Raul said. I thought we would live together. I never agreed to that. If it had been a condition, I never would have married you. She was squinting. Her mouth was dry. You paid me for something. All I'm doing is keeping my end of the bargain, and that doesn't include hanging around with you, your friends, or your family. Well, I think you need me, he said, his lower lip jutting out like a fleshy ledge. I'm a good man. I can help you. You don't get it, Raul, Lupe said, shifting her weight from one hip to the other.

52:02She stood at an angle, scratched her hand. I don't know that you'll ever get it, but suffice it to say that I don't need you. We're not family, no matter how many justices of the peace we stand in front of. But of course we are. No, Raul, you have your people and I have mine. But yours, that's not your family. You need me to help you stay in touch with your family. With your Latin self, he said angrily. He shoved one hand in his pants pocket and used the other to poke at the air. In Mexico, this wouldn't happen, and you'd have to do as I say. There are laws, you know. Lupe laughed again. In Mexico, we'd never have married Raul.

52:44In Mexico, you wouldn't need to marry a nice American girl. That you're American is an accident of geography, he said. You're running away from your Latin self, he insisted. I know who you are, and I know who you think you are. I'm a man who's seen a little bit of the world. I may not have gone to college like you, but I know people, and I know you. Oh, please, she said, and started to walk away from the corner. He shook his head sadly and looked down at the tips of his grime-covered shoes. Then he took off, following a few steps behind her. I didn't want to do this, he said, but you've given me no choice.

53:21Suddenly he grabbed her and threw her against the flyer-covered telephone pole. What the f*** do you think you're doing, she demanded, kicking and scratching at him. I didn't want to hurt you, he said in a voice that cracked. I tried to carry this around with me all by myself, but now you give me no choice. He yanked her up, pressing his body to hers and forcing her face to face with him. She could see his pores. He held her like that for a moment. Then, seeing the men with the flyers across the street, he let go. Hit me and I'll kill you, mother f***er. Lupe tried to step away, readying her hands martial arts style for him.

54:02Hey, she yelled in English to the two men across the street. This guy's trying to kill me. Can you call the cops? The two looked at each other warily, then back across the street to Lupe in her battle stance. Raúl was crying. The things you accuse me of, they're all the things that you do, he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his fists. Well, I finally went and did one of them. It hurt me to do it, but I'm a man. I couldn't put up with this any longer. Hey, leave her alone, one of the men yelled from across the street, but it was lackluster. The second man walked slowly back to the diner where a blue metal flag advertised the public telephone inside.

54:40Raul, I don't want you near me. Do you understand? Lupe said, switching back to Spanish. I don't know what the f*** you're talking about, but I'll tell you this much. If you keep this up, I'll file a police report, and the government will figure out what we're doing. and you will be shipped back. Do you understand? He didn't react to what she said. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. I did it, you know, he finally said. Did what? she asked, confused. I cheated on you, he said. She stared at him. Her fighting posture loosened as she struggled for comprehension. I was with another woman, he said.

55:21Since you wouldn't act like a wife, I just couldn't take it anymore, and I had an affair behind your back. Lupe wanted to laugh, but didn't. She was stunned by the hopeless sincerity of his unnecessary confession. I think that's good, Raúl, she finally said. I think it's good that you get out and get involved. After all, we're not really married. We're only legally married. She smiled a little as she talked, trying desperately to be supportive. Raúl closed his eyes, tears escaping from under the lids. Oh, you are a cold, cold woman, he cried, his voice cracking again as he threw his hands in the air.

56:06Why did I have to marry such a cold woman? Raúl, you didn't marry a cold woman. You married a lesbian. He covered his ears with the palms of his hands. I don't want to hear that, he shouted. No, no, no. Lupe sighed and shook her head. God, this is absolutely not worth it, she said, more to herself than to him. The cops are on their way, said the man who'd gone back to the diner. He strolled back across the street to his partner, who'd been serving as witness to Raul and Lupe's argument. Raul, she said, her voice softer now. If the cops get here and we're still fighting, you'll probably be in trouble, so let's just go our separate ways, okay?

56:51Don't you care, he pleaded. Yeah, I care, she said. That's why I'm telling you this. Please go back to the restaurant. I'll just leave, and when the cops get here, there won't be anybody to file charges. We're still married, he insisted, as if nothing else mattered For just one more year, Raul, so don't blow it for yourself, she said And please don't bother me anymore You're trying my patience Remember that I can put you right back on the wrong side of the river They fell silent again What's that, he asked, nodding at her wrist An axe, she said He smiled a little, but he'd already given up. To cut off men's balls, I suppose.

57:37Yeah, she said, if necessary. They both laughed lightly, a little embarrassed. Raul shoved his hands in his pockets. I hear you bought a house with Kate. With my money, he said, not meeting her eyes. She nodded. It was my money. I earned it. He looked up, but she refused to make eye contact. You should get back to work, she said flatly. The cops will be here any moment, and I have to go. Will you come by, see my mother, or maybe just call sometime, he asked. You never give up, do you? No. Well, you should, Lupe said, then walked away. Her sharp strides put her across the street in seconds. Raúl watched as she talked to the two men.

58:24After a moment, the men turned and left. Raúl turned two, then quietly wandered back to the diner. By the time the squad car arrived at the corner, nobody was there.

58:56Our program is produced today by Julie Snyder and myself with Elise Spiegel and Nancy Opdyke. Contributing editors Paul Tuff, Jack Hitt, Margie Rockland, and Consul Yeri-Sereval. Production up from Jorge Jess, Todd Bachman, and Sylvia Lemus. Help on today's rerun from Adrienne Lilly, Molly Marcelo, Catherine Raimondo, and Stone Nelson. This American Life is delivered to public radio stations by PRX, the public radio exchange. Thanks today to our This American Life partners, Nisha Gulati, David Vanderpool, and Rebecca Reed. Please consider joining them as a life partner and become one of the people who help us keep making the show.

59:27To thank you, we're going to give you dozens and dozens of bonus episodes we've made. I just started experimenting this week with a little email newsletter. We'll see if that keeps going. Join at thisamericanlife.org slash lifepartners. That link is also in the show notes. Thanks, as always, to our program's co-founder, Ms. Tori Malatia, who describes our program this way, where booking guests whose near constant profanity makes the show into an unintelligible barrage of bleeps. I'm Ira Glass. Back next week with more stories of this American life. We always knew that we'd find someone like you So welcome to our little corner of the world

1:00:23Next week on the podcast of This American Life, stories for this year's July 4th semi-quincentennial. And yes, I had to look up that word. That means 250th. We have Jiayung Phan on the moment she realized what the most American question is. Aviva de Kornfeld on some very funny and very American signs posted in a Michigan sand dune. Pablo Torre on our very American love of yelling at refs and umpires. So much of what going to a baseball game is like is sitting in the stands and effectively using the airspace around you as this sort of pillow you can scream into. That's next week on the podcast or on your local public radio station.

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