I don’t usually look to the Journal Gazette for poignance, but I found it today in a typically underwritten column about a Hoosier who couldn’t wait to get quit of the place, and the family who just couldn’t understand.
Read between the lines, and you see the outlines of what seems to be a remarkable individual, this Eric Johnson who traveled the world for decades: I’m guessing he was gay, although that’s only a guess based on the lifestyle-and-choices stereotypes (ballet and bachelorhood); curious about the world outside Fort Wayne; highly intelligent; restless.
Indiana loves to proudly claim native sons and daughters only after the local narrow-mindedness and Siberian cultural conditions have driven them far away to make their fortunes. It would seem that Johnson is only another in a long series, minus the fame.
Jeff Clark will never know why his brother chose to spend his life roaming the world. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be like the people in his hometown, working humdrum jobs and going home to the same house where they would eventually die, never having left the corner of the world where they were born.
Maybe? You think?