I felt bad for him. He didn't know what to call himself. "This is your... this is your... this is your..." I told him I had heard about his mother and that I am sorry. The conversation was brief. He only knew that the memorial service will be"either Sunday or Monday," and told me that he's taking the bus down from Philadelphia for the funeral.

"Maybe I'll see you," he said. I assured him that I would be there. Then he was gone.