The town you grow up in has deep impact on the fabric of your soul, and towns around here always seem to have a person who adds to the soul and fabric of that community. Well, at least the fortunate towns do. I mean, Wheeling, WV has “MoonDog”. Steubenville, OH has “Tennis Shoe Ernie”. Homestead, PA had the “Homestead Can Man”, and Southside has “Kung Fu Joe”.
The town I grew up in had Kirby. I honestly don’t know too much about Kirby, but when I think of my hometown, Kirby pops up in many of the memories.
When I was a kid, the Starra Baba’s around town often referred to Kirby as: “One of God’s Special Children”. I guess Kirby did have a set of challenges, but kindness, sharing his bright smile, and greeting everyone warmly were certainly his talents. Also on his talent list had to be perseverance.
Why do I say “Perseverance?” Because Kirby had hustle in his blood. He canvassed the town and knocked on doors. When I was really little I recall him knocking on doors and asking the occupants if they had any “Coo-Pawns or Pawp Bottles?” Why did I spell those words funny? One of Kirby’s quirks was that his voice had a bit of a high pitch, and he tended to extend his vowels when speaking.
Bumping into Kirby was heartwarming. For me, it was the way he said, “Hi”. It was an experience. There was full eye contact, a bright smile, and that extended vowel, so it was “Hi-i-i-i-i-i”. The tone fluctuated a bit to, so that two letter word sounded like it had 8 syllables.
He moved on to – of all things – selling homemade potholders door to door. And, he hustled hard at it. I mean seriously, if you grew up anywhere near Duquesne, West Mifflin, or McKeesport, there’s a 95% chance that there is (or at least was) a “Kirby Potholder” in your kitchen. And, if you’re in the 5% who never had a “Kirby Potholder” there’s a 100% chance he knocked on your front door.
These Kirby Potholders, which all had little plastic rings so that you could hang them up, were ubiquitous, however they could confuse friends from out of town. I know I had the following conversation with out of town friends more than once:
“Hey hand me that Kirby Potholder.”
“What kind of potholder?”
“Kirby Potholder.”
“What’s a ‘Kirby’?”
“He’s this guy that makes potholders and sells them door to door.”
The look in the out of towner’s eyes is what made me realize that what we had here was special.
Many, many years later, I realized his name was actually Kirvy and not Kirby. Most of us had been saying it wrong for ever.
Anyway, Kirvy passed away the other day. And, as I mentioned earlier, we weren’t friends or pals. We were just two guys living in the same town, but somehow he touched my life in a positive way. I wish people can say something that positive about me when it’s my time. I wish Kirvy Godspeed. And I wish I still had a Kirby Potholder.