A Good Friend of Batesville

This post is the oddest blog post to write because I do not know a lot of history and I am only left to speculate and assume some of this story - a story that I am now a bigger part of than I ever thought I’d be.

I guess now would be nice to throw in my “Allen-ism”, and that is: don’t let facts get in the way of a good story. I’d love for you to add or bend my story.  

Some of you may remember a man in a baseball cap riding a bike around the side streets of Batesville behind the Middle and Intermediate Schools in the 80s and 90s. My only brief memory is a middle aged man with a big smile and an even bigger wave on a big bike with a big basket in the front, riding so slowly near 2nd Street - treating the buses as if the kids aboard were in a parade after school. His smile - so big and bright. Seemingly not a care in the world. I can remember seeing him several times over my bus riding years. But if you talk to others - this was a daily occurrence for the man.

I remember thinking he had good balance because I couldn’t ride a bike that slowly like him and wave at the same time. He was probably about 40 or a little older, but his face was childlike.

What I’ve learned of this man lately is much more. 

Let me introduce you to my friend… Ronnie.

Ronnie lived a chunk of his life in Batesville with his mom. He frequented small local businesses during the day (and typically in a certain order) before heading back to catch a wave from the school kids upon his way home. One of his favorite places of the 90s was Dunlaps. He loved coming in and sitting on the cedar bench to talk to Mark and Mo. 

He loved talking with customers. Many to this day remember Ronnie and have their own little story about him. 

The conversations were never too heavy and never too personal. But the visit was much like clockwork. Ronnie had a routine. And Dunlaps was always a big part of that routine. 

After years of visits, Ronnie’s older brother decided that Ronnie’s mother and Ronnie needed to move to be nearer to him and other family… in Alabama. Sometime prior to 2017, Ronnie rode his bike around town, waved his goodbyes to the school children, swung by Dunlaps, and headed south- promising Mark and Mo he would call.

And Ronnie did call.

Nearly every afternoon.

He typically wanted to talk to Mark, but if Mark was busy anyone would do.

How was the weather? Was it raining? Big belly laugh from Ronnie sparked a big belly laugh from the listener because his laugh is infectious. 

The calls only lasted a couple minutes. Sometimes Ronnie just said bye kind of out of nowhere. Sometimes we would have to cut the calls short because we were a little too busy.

But nevertheless, the next day or so, Ronnie’s number would light up the phones and, having it memorized, we would yell to Mark, “It’s Ronnie!”

Just like clockwork. 

Just like the old days.

But when Mark went to part-time in 2021, he had a good talk with Ronnie. I’m not certain, but I think Mark (who gives NO ONE his number) gave Ronnie his home phone number. When Mark stopped working at the store, the calls from Ronnie stopped too.

And it honestly made me a little sad.

Of course the conversations were never heavier than the Alabama heat or how much Ronnie weighed at his doctor’s appointment this morning, but they were just one more “tick to our charm” board that made Dunlaps so special to me.

But I moved on and Ronnie quit calling altogether in September of 2021 - still asking for Mark, but letting me know that he had eggs and cereal for breakfast AND lunch. Our last conversation was just a reminder that Mark was gone. Sadness as he said, “Oh. Oh okay. Amantha. O-O-Okay bye bye.”

I felt like I had ruined it all. And as life does, I got busy and kind of forgot about Ronnie… and then around Christmas remembered it had been months since we last talked. Nobody at the store had heard from him in a long while.

January of 2023 marched in. And we knew this year would be our first full year without Ronnie. I caught myself thinking sad thoughts… What if something awful had happened to him… 

Then, out of the blue (though I think Mark may have had something to do with it) Ronnie started calling again last week. This time he didn’t ask for Mark, but instead “The Boss Lady Amantha.”

When the number popped up, I’m not going to lie, I was so happy. 

And when I heard that Ronnie didn’t ask for Mark, but for me, my heart swelled even more. 

Ronnie called 3 times last week and I’m so excited to see what this week will bring. He has been cutting A LOT of hearts to send A LOT of Valentine’s Day cards. He also said he had been roofing in the pouring rain. When I called his bluff, he laughed that laugh. 

I know very little about my friend Ronnie. I don’t know how long he lived in our sweet little Indiana town. I don’t know how many people remember that man waving to the buses. I don’t know if his mom is still around, I don’t know exactly how old he is, and I don’t know if I am getting one of his MANY Valentine’s cards. But I do know that he loved this town immensely, I do know he remembers the buses, and I do know he means a lot to the spirit that is Dunlaps.

Thank you for being such a loyal friend of Dunlaps, Ronnie.

Much love always,

Samantha