Friday, 1:50 p.m. — I park, the vehicle still loaded nearly to the top, next to the newer Keep Alliance Beautiful pickup, now hitched to the empty Hemingford trailer. What had promised to be a routine afternoon proved otherwise. No more time to ponder the past or help out at the recycling center on this occasion as I hustle to meet my children at their schools for the end-of-the-week early release.
Two and a half hours earlier: Lonnie Grant, our newest recycling center employee, and I set out for our first Hemingford run together. I drove the usual route as we stopped at Pat’s Creative first. The popular rural business had a lot of cardboard, paperboard and other material. Pointing out what we could expect from each stop, Lonnie and I filled the truck bed to the top of the side walls. Though a large load, we did our best to pack everything well taking into account size and weight. And, of course, at least a half dozen bungee cords stretched over the top like spider’s web. Lastly, Lonnie guided me back and we attached the trailer for the 20-mile drive to Alliance.
Among the first stories related to newbies at the recycling center are tales of when an individual or team lost part of a load. Occasions when the wind or another cause left items scattered along the highway are the most memorable. That Friday a few weeks ago set the threshold as my worst spill over the past two years.
Everything appeared to stay put when we came up to speed and the grain silos of Farmer’s Co-op began to recede in the rearview mirror. Wrong. The first bag went airborne a handful of minutes later. Stop, retrieve, repeat. No problem, just rearrange a bit and stretch those bungee cords over the top again.
After reaching Berea and continuing south of the junction with Highway 385 nothing else had even moved — as far as we could tell. Besides, the few bags that went astray earlier all stayed intact for relatively easy retrieval. A couple miles before the Ginn Beet Dump, movement in the mirror caught my eye. A large, clear bag caught a gust and BURST on the centerline. Small sheets of paper, bottles and miscellaneous items hit the pavement and began to scatter in the breeze and traffic.
Seconds later we were on the shoulder and my only thought was “clean it up.” Black trash bags in hand, Lonnie and I walked briskly to where the lion’s share of what was now technically litter occupied the northbound lane. The strategy was to clear the asphalt between passing vehicles. Seeing most drivers attempt to avoid the debris was encouraging until a semi-truck passed smack dab through the middle. It was around this juncture that a pickup pulled off and our “litter angel” stepped out.
The older gentleman said nothing as he joined us armed with a five-gallon bucket and a rake. Time seemed suspended while chasing plastic and paper, however the Good Samaritan was there at least 15-20 minutes I’d say as he dumped what he collected into our bags until the last scrap we could see had been corralled. We thanked him without introducing ourselves or asking his name.
What I do know — a constant stream of people drove by and one stopped to help. He just pitched in. I suspect this was not the first time, or the last, he will help keep our environment a little cleaner. Every litter lifter creates a more pleasing place to live from scenic byways to neighborhood sidewalks. Just keep your cleanup sack intact — everything goes more smoothly that way.