This post was contributed by a community member. The views expressed here are the author's own.

Community Corner

Bobby's Fresh Produce

He knows he can't change the past, but he can—and does—live a different life.

Thursday, 8:30 a.m. and the produce stand stood empty. No tomatoes, no peppers, no bananas. And no Bobby. Mondays and Thursdays, Bobby Lawrence usually rises at 4 a.m., travels to the Atlanta Farmer's Market, loads his truck with the best regional produce and returns to his stand by 8 a.m.

On this Thursday, something was wrong.

I called Bobby's cell phone to see if he was okay. I was right—something was wrong. He'd had not one but two accidents on the way home from the Farmer's Market. The first one totaled his truck. In the second, someone t-boned the wrecker. He was stiff but okay. When you're almost 80, and in two wrecks in an hour, stiff but okay is pretty good.

Find out what's happening in Canton-Sixeswith free, real-time updates from Patch.

I met Bobby several years ago at his produce stand near the . Back then he operated out of one of those trailers that open at the side. He wears jeans and suspenders over a short sleeve shirt, and is fit and tan for a man who will celebrate eight decades in July.

Ever pick a cucumber fresh from the garden? The skin isn't smooth like ones in the grocery store, but has tiny, harmless pricklies all over, and is crisp and refreshing inside. Not too unlike Bobby, come to think of it.

Find out what's happening in Canton-Sixeswith free, real-time updates from Patch.

You might think it a tranquil life, minding a produce stand. That day, as I visited with him in the grateful shade of his awning, he had a steady stream of customers. Several mothers with kids, a few older couples. Most buy tomatoes. One man got boiled peanuts. Most call him by name. A young woman, Jessica, hugged him and proudly presented her new driver's license. Bobby had written to her in prison and was eager for her to succeed now that she was out on parole.

Bobby knows how it is. He's very grateful for the life he has now. He lives in a nice fifth-wheel RV on a friend's land. It sure beats where he spent a quarter of his life, in a federal penitentiary for one reason or another, mostly for crimes involving fraud and money. At one point he served six years with the likes of Charles Manson.

A year or so ago, the county took issue with his stand not being licensed, so he rented space in the same shopping center, just a few doors down from the post office. The new, licensed place has allowed him to expand a bit. He has a few refrigerators and a freezer, so now he sells drinks and carries fresh, local eggs as well as baked breads and homemade jams.

Often times he'll be away from the stand and leave a note: "Help yourself, leave money in basket".  One time when I was out of cash, I left an I.O.U. He says he's had pretty good luck with people being honest.

"I figure if they don't leave money, they must need the food."

He shakes his head.

"But if they'd just ask me," he says, "I'd have given it to them."  

That's because in 2003, when he accepted Christ, his life changed forever. He knows he can't change the past, but he can—and does—live a different life. He never misses a church service and he shares his time, his money and his produce as needs arise. Bobby knows how it is—"to whom much is given much is required." And he knows he's been given a lot.

And now, you've met Bobby.

We’ve removed the ability to reply as we work to make improvements. Learn more here

The views expressed in this post are the author's own. Want to post on Patch?