Following the story about the Can Man in the Saline Courier, letters, calls, and emails reached my office. Readers asked what they could do to help Dotsey. Some asked where to send money to help with his medical bills. Others offered to give their cans to him for recycling. Get Well Soon cards arrived. We did our best to forward each to Dotsey and his family.

Dr. Allan Dabbs in Bryant met with Dotsey to see how he could help with the medical side.

After a while, the interest faded.

I think back to the interview I had with Dotsey and his brother, George. There were a few things I didn’t put in the article. While I did note that George was there to speak for Dotsey, I didn’t spell out the full reason as to why. Dotsey had what could be called a speech impediment. He could talk, but understanding what he had to say was difficult. George was there to act as a translator of sorts. I also didn’t write about how completely at ease the two brothers were in our discussions. I found them completely open and genuine, a refreshing change from the usual interviews I had experience up to this point early on in my tenure. I remember this interview clearly, even now, and it always makes me smile.

I learned of Dotsey’s death shortly after his funeral. He died July 30, 2018. His obituary is listed at the Roller-Ballard Funeral Home website. Last week I went to see his grave.

Dotsey is buried in the Pleasant Hills Cemetery located on the Bauxite Cut-off Road. It’s a small cemetery that a person might not notice. A small sign that has seen better days sits back from a grass covered culvert to mark the entrance.

Dotsey’s grave is non-descript. The marker pictured at the top of this post is set in the ground, surrounded by grass, listing to the right, just as Dotsey’s stance had become while he was alive. A simple resting place for a man that did the best that he could with what he had and, at least from what I knew of him, seemed completely at ease.

As I stood at his grave, I watched the cars go by and realized I was seeing the world from Dotsey’s eyes back when he was spry, dragging that black bag behind him and waving at traffic. I felt the lesson of being “in the moment”, not worrying about life as it speeds by.

Just smile and wave.