OK, here’s my co-incidence story from my son’s wedding weekend in London, a few days ago:
We had dinner in Otto’s restaurant in the Grays Inn Road and a great time was had by the twenty friends and family gathered. On Saturday we awoke to a bright and sunny morning, albeit a chilly one. Come on spring.
My mobile phone buzzes and it’s my daughter-in-law of less than 18 hours, asking if we were “up and at `em” as they wanted breakfast – NOW!
We were up, washed and brushed in no time and waiting in our hotel lobby for them to appear from the direction of their hotel, just around the corner from The British Museum a mere 300 yards away. I decided to check out our hotel breakfast room as an option. As I came back up the stairs to the lobby lounge, I spied a couple who I took to be in their mid-seventies, sitting down with their suitcases. I noticed that the man had a cap embroidered with a crest and the initials U.S.A.F. As I approached we made eye contact and I said, “Nice cap you’ve got there”. He stood up, ramrod straight, and said, “Why thank you”. We shook hands and struck up a conversation. It transpired that he and his wife had just spent a few weeks `doing the entire UK by coach`. I told him that I was actually a Londoner and that this was quite a rarity in this part of town! He was amused by that. He then told me that he had been here with the USAF in the late fifties at RAF Ruislip (that’s pronounced Ryeslip). I replied, “Ah, a headquarters man”? He told me he was with Intel and that his main task was as a target assessor and plotter and how he had enjoyed his UK posting.
“So, where do you live”? sez I. “San Diego” sez he. I chuckled and said, “Oh, I have some internet `pen-pals` who were there only last month, remembering a lost compadre at an informal gathering in Shakespeare’s Bar”. He knew it and was amazed that this Londoner he’d just met did too. I briefly explained the connection. He told me he had seen the TV news bulletin of the service and missing man fly past over Fort Rosencrans. I shook his hand again and that of his charming English wife (whom he stole from England’s shores during his Cold War posting – `a typical American serviceman’s stunt` I told him!). My son arrived and so I just said, `this is my boy, he’s hungry so we’ve got to go`. I bade them a safe onward journey back to warmer climes. They were a really lovely couple.
That is my `very low odds` co-incidence story. Some of you may recall a similar thing happened to me last year, in a Suffolk town I’d never visited before, in the wake of Lex’s passing, . Things like this happen to me a lot and have done so all my life and I have no idea why.