A colleague of mine recently shared one of his life stories.

When he was a young boy, there was an old man he knew who lived deep in the forest in a run-down cabin. This man made his living making and selling candy apples, taking them into the surrounding towns in the trunk of his car.

It was well known that if a child caught this man driving back from one of his trips to town and waved to him from the roadside, he would stop his car, get out, and ask for a smile. Then he would open his trunk and give you a candy apple.

You never knew when he was going to town or at what time he would return, so my friend, a boy of eight, would walk the same road each day five or six times hoping to catch him. Sometimes he would catch him, but most times not. He called him the “Candy Apple Man” and remembers him fondly to this day.

Hearing this story, I reflected on what an interesting life our generation had as children, unencumbered by the fear of strangers and constant supervision. What life lessons did we glean from people different from ourselves?

What would we do to the “Candy Apple Man” today? Investigate him? Arrest him?

Are we the last generation to experience him? I hope not.