Springs Head Loop by Justin

Springs Head Loop by Justin - January 2017 Scholarship Essay

Throughout my life, those around me have shaped me into the person I am today. My family supported me, encouraged me, and picked me up when I was down. Now before you toss this essay aside, do not fret: I will not be following the cookie cutter response to this topic. I could be informing you about how my family helped me to get to where I am today, and I am eternally thankful that they have done so, but everyone is influenced by those with which they live. Instead, I am writing this to tell you about a quiet and humble street called Springs Head Loop, and how its occupants influenced my life.
I have called this street my home since we moved here while I was in the second grade. Our street was the perfect embodiment of a community. Whether it was the barbecue block parties on a blistering Texas evening or an unscheduled game of cul-de-sac football, there were not many days in which lawn chairs were not propped up in someone’s front yard. As I grew older and passed through the twelve-year-old shy phase, I got to know our neighbors better. One of whom was our neighbor Rod. Rod was a hardworking man. Any time someone was out of town, or going through any kind of hardship, he would mow their yard, and sometimes without asking. That definitely sparked some surprised faces as some neighbors returned from their vacations. After some conversations and observing him make frequent trips to the houses down the street, he asked me if I wanted to be his assistant with mowing some lawns since I was too young to have a job. I had always looked up to him, and it never ceased to amaze me how deeply hard labor was etched into his veins, so I of course accepted. From that day on, he became my landscaping instructor.
Rod took his craft very seriously, and this resulted in many trips back to the houses where I missed a single blade of grass in the backyard. Often times, Rod would point somewhere in the yard and tell me that I missed a spot. I would dissect the spot, scanning over it while hoping to locate my error, but every time I thought I had finished my task, he would brush his hand across the blade that evaded my thorough search. Rod’s landscaping meticulousness continued on, until his health prevented him from getting in his familiar spot behind the lawn mower. Rod’s son had to start caring for his mother and father’s yard, which left me to continue the mowing business on my own.
For a year, business remained the same, and I continued to mow the same yards throughout the summer. That was until a neighbor of ours, Chris, was deployed to Djibouti, Africa, on short notice as he was in the Army Reserves. His wife was the only one living at home, and she worked a full time job which left no one to perform weekly yard upkeep. My father and I knew she was in need of a neighborly companion to assist her with this task during that difficult time of separation, so we volunteered to take care of her yard for free. We felt as if it was our duty to help with that situation. I knew that it was what my parents would want me to do, but also what Rod would want me to do. His work ethic and compassion inspired me and my father to help someone who needed it and deserved it.
When Chris returned from his deployment, he went back to his job as an emergency responder. All was normal for a few months, until Chris received word from a 911 dispatcher that there had been a call from our street, Springs Head Loop. Chris arrived with his fellow paramedics, only to find Rod had fallen down the stairs and fractured his skull. My family along with our neighbors awoke to sirens flashing in the middle of the night and ambulances parked in front of Rod’s home. We were not briefed of the situation until the next day, which was when we found out that he would not be returning home anytime soon. While Rod was in the hospital, word traveled fast, and later that day neighbors up and down the street hauled out their lawn care equipment and headed over to Rod’s house. People banded together all up and down the street to mow this man’s yard, because his caring heart and workaholic drive influenced everyone.
Not many days after his accident, Rod passed away. His passion has stuck with me to this day, and when I am reminded of the legacy he left on our street, I remember to always pay attention to details, work hard and tirelessly, but most importantly, be compassionate towards others. Not only did Rod influence my life, but all my neighbors did as well. I will always remember the way that everyone came together to help Rod. My neighbors’ willingness to always step in and help has translated to my life today. Any time I see someone in need, I feel as if it is my duty to help them to the best of my ability.