I still see Rod often when I'm downtown, usually with his big black dog, Bear. Bear also has a Cherokee Indian name, but I don't remember what it is. When I first met him, Rod was selling glass beads he'd made to make some money to buy food and gas for his van, where he lived. We talked about fused glass for a bit. Then he told me a story about a woman that he loved and took cared for until she died, and how much of a toll it took on him. I'm still not sure why he was willing to share that much about himself with me, a perfect stranger.