CNJ+ October 2024

THE RED BARN Chapter 3: The First Meeting with Devon By Richard Mabey Jr.

Your Tru BrianD Could it be possible that the Winds of Fate, the Tides of Des tiny, the whisper of Divine Prov idence could bring together a young man and a young woman, to become all such good friends? That from their friendship, their lives would never be the same again. Is there a Wisdom, beyond our human comprehension that will bring an individual to the right place, at the right time, to meet a person who will have an amazing and profoundly posi tive affect upon them? Such that both of their lives will be deeply changed for having known each other. Such a meeting, such an event, came upon my life in early June of 1983, when I was 29 years old. In the early 1980’s, Nolan and Erin McCarthy lived in the old canal house, that once stood mid way along Mabey Lane. They were #Local SEO #Google Ads

door of the old canal house. I glanced over to the old canal house, as I held the two by four in place. About three seconds lat er, Nolan came outside and began walking over to us. “Come with me, Devon. I want cha ta meet our good neighbors,” Nolan said to his niece, with a bit of a song in his voice. By the time Nolan and Devon had crossed Mabey Lane, I could feel my heart beating like a big old bass drum. Sweat began to fill the palms of my hand. For me, it was love at first sight. And, Devon had such an incredibly kind voice. Her strawberry red hair blew about in the summer’s wind. There, at the site of the future red barn, we all small talked. Devon told us that she was from Chicago and that she was visiting her aunt and uncle for a while. I

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A very special photo of the old canal house, that once stood along Mabey Lane. It was the home of Nolan and Erin McCarthy for several years.

don’t remember all the specifics of what we talked about. But I do remember Uncle Ed totally embarrassed me when he suggested to Devon that his good nephew, meaning me, could show her around Lincoln Park. It’s strange, how I remember this. I recall Devon’s kind voice replying to Uncle Ed with some thing like, “that would be nice.” We continued to small talk for a few more minutes. Then Nolan said that he and Devon should be getting along. As I watched them cross Mabey Lane and get into Nolan’s old station wagon, my heart continued to pound against my chest. That night, after supper, I sat at my desk in my bedroom and wrote it all down in my journal. I remember reflecting upon the hand of fate, the draw of destiny. I reflected upon my struggles to survive in a small town in West Virginia, right after I had graduated from chiropractic school. How I gotten so sick and came down with a case of severe strep throat. I only had two or three patients, in that small town of West Virginia. I was living on hot dogs and beans all the time, along with cold cereal. I lived in the back of the little store front, I had rented. There at my desk, I felt an inward comfort. It was as if everything that had happened to me in my life, had led up to this very moment of meeting sweet, kind Devon, earlier that day. To be continued next issue. Richard Mabey Jr. is a freelance writer. He hosts a YouTube Channel titled, “Richard Mabey Presents.” He can be reached at richardmabeyjr@gmail.com.

wsiworld. (609) 28 b.desai@ #FaceBook Ad #Get More Le two of the kindest folks I have ever known. As if the odds were a million to one, they both hailed from Ireland, having crossed the pond when they were children. Both of their parents settled in Clifton. It was in their early twenties, that Nolan and Erin met in church. They married, but never had children. Now, in the early 1980’s, they were both in their early forties. It was during this time that their niece, Nolan’s brother’s daughter, Devon came to visit them. Devon was 25 at the time and had recently had the heart break of surviving a broken engagement. Just two weeks before her planned wedding date, her former boyfriend told her that he had decided that mar riage just wasn’t for him. Devon had come to visit her aunt and uncle to get away from her home in Chicago, to find solace and healing in her aunt and uncle’s little town of Lincoln Park. Interestingly enough, the red barn that Dad, Uncle Ed and I were in the midst of building was being built on Mabey Lane, directly across from the old canal house, the home of Nolan and Erin. I do not think that I shall ever forget the first time, I laid eyes upon dear, sweet Devon McCarthy. Uncle Ed and I were holding a two by four, cross beam, in place while Dad was nailing it down. I believe it was on a Monday morning, but it may have been a Tuesday morning. I know for sure that it was the beginning of the week. For Dad, Uncle Ed and I had just, more or less, began building the red barn. When I first saw Devon, it was love at first sight. Devon’s red hair, her freckled face and her green eyes, burnt a most remarkable indelible mark upon the fiber and chambers of my heart. Devon stepped out of the side

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