It was unseasonally cold this morning so I put on the socks Eason gave me.
The story of the socks started with a summer phone call. I answered. It was Eason.
“Hey Brandon, what size shoes do you wear?”
“10, sometimes 10 and a-half,” I replied.
“Great! Talk to you later,” Eason said and hung up.
It was a typical phone call with Eason. Our friendship had transcended pleasantries. I did puzzle on why he wanted to know my shoes size, but I soon forgot about it and moved on with the next phone call, the next paper, the next person.
That Christmas Eve, my doorbell rang. When I opened the door Eason handed me a Bass Pro Shop sack and exclaimed, “Merry Christmas!” Not a gift bag. A sack. And in the bottom of the sack were three pairs of Redhead socks. Eason was almost giddy to let me know that the socks have a lifetime warranty.
I am certain that Eason discovered the socks while looking for duck hunting gear. They are warm like socks you would want in a duck blind and comfortable like socks you can wear for hours without complaint.
Eason died many years ago now. I have taken advantage of the warranty and replaced the original socks twice. No wonder, I wear them during all the cold months. My wife and daughter wear them on really cold days. What a gift!
I want to leave a sock legacy. Like Eason, I want to leave something for others that is protective and comforting. Something that, once given, will last them the entirety of their life.