Ihad passed the shoeshine stand for years without really noticing anything. It was strategically placed by the men’s room outside of the security checkpoint near the Southwest Airlines Concourse B, and would be hard for your average male traveler to miss.

It seems that I was always in a hurry to catch a flight, so I would usually move swiftly to get through security at the old New Orleans International Airport. There were a few times when my shoes needed attention, and I would stop for a quick shine, as it was convenient.

While my shoes were being tended to, I would read the newspaper, check email, and maybe chat about what was happening with the Saints. There was small talk, nothing overly engaging. When the polishing was done, I was on my way, with a shine I could be proud of.

One day

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