John Breaux

Ok, so he was burried yesterday. I felt I should write a tad about him.

John, I saw you almost everyday, riding around on your bicycle, collecting trash and smiling. I couldn't even really get to know you, the only coherent words you would utter were "hot dogs" and "spaghetti sure is good, eh?". But it was the things you didn't say that meant the most to Louisville. You kept us clean. Every day, you rode around town, trash in one bag, recyclables in another, keeping us sparkling come rain, snow or shine. You smiled at all of us, and we smiled back. When you got hit on the side of the road by that drugged up hippy, the entire town cried. You know there's a GIANT roadside memorial for you, right?
The doctors said you were schizophrenic, but I KNOW that's not it. Sure, you couldn't talk or write or really do much, but you were nice and kind and did what you could to help us all out. We gave you food, free repairs and coffee. You gave us our town idiot and cleanliness.
Goodbye, John. RIP.