Worse Things Have Happened To Better People

Carl ‘Mac’ Houston Burnham may have been one of the smartest men I ever met. He had grown up in Texas, fought in World War II, put himself through school at UT in Austin, and raised a family in Alice without hardly relying on anyone for help. Our afternoons on the golf course became mornings at the coffee house with him and his buddies. He would take me with him to Wal Mart from time to time and I even had dinner with him and his wife a few times a week. She told me to just call her ‘Granny’.

One day I made my way out to the course after making a “C” on a math test. I was in a bad mood because the teacher had messed up on grading it and refused to give it a second look. I found Mac on the 4th hole and plopped down on the grass next to the green where he was putting.

“Hello, Shane.”
Mac’s voice was always loud and firm. It shook me sometimes.
“Hey, Mac.”
“You look like someone stole your bicycle. Whats eating at you?”
“I made a C on my test and its my dumb teacher’s fault. She messed up grading it and won’t even take a 2nd look at it.”
“Well Shane, thats too bad”

He made his putt and slowly walked my direction, writing down his score between steps.

“Ya know one time when I was working, we were out in a field just south of here. My best friend drove up in his brand new black truck and parked it off to the side. He hopped out, all smiles, and was making his way towards me when the pump jack we were running hit an air pocket. The ground shook a little and suddenly his truck disappeared into the Earth. When we were sure it was safe, we made our way up to the edge of the hole and peered down into it. There was his new shiny black truck, tail pipe up, about 40 feet down. We never got it out”

This story seemed like just another rambling story from the old man. I usually loved such recollections, but right now I was in a bad mood.

“Thats great, Mac.”

For the first time ever, Mac turned to me without any sort of smile.

“No, son. It wasn’t great. That truck had cost my friend nearly 4 months of wages just to put a down payment. He paid it off over the next 10 years and only drove it 17 miles.”

I must have made a confused and frightened face because Mac softened a little.

“The reason I told you that story is because I am trying to make a point. No matter where you go, no matter what happens to you, no matter how raw a deal you think you’ve got, worse things have always happened to better people.”

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