Douglas & Quanterrious
My husband and I arrived at our business on Main Street this afternoon with a vehicle and trailer loaded with supplies for a bathroom project. We were exhausted from a weekend full of events at our venue as well as today’s trip to Home Depot to pick out things like toilets, light fixtures, and vanities.
On the way there, I mentioned trying to find someone to help him unload everything (lots of items that were too heavy for me to help with) when he replied, “It’s Memorial Day. No one’s going to be available to help on a holiday.” I dislike being told something isn’t possible.
As he began shifting things around inside to make room for our purchases, I looked across the street and saw several men cleaning the lot where Jimmy’s Service Station once stood before they leveled it a week ago. Never one to be deterred by a stubborn husband or striking up a conversation with strangers, I marched across the street and asked a young, muscular guy if he would be willing to help with some backbreaking work so my husband who doesn’t like to ask for help would not hurt himself unloading 4 toilets and 38 sheets of plywood. Without hesitation, he said yes and walked over with me, adding that he understood how a man feels about asking for help.
Within minutes, another young man appeared and asked if we could use his help. Within a few minutes, the guys had everything inside, and I was ever so grateful. I asked their names and permission to post their photos on the Why Woodville? page after explaining what the page was about. They agreed, so I snapped some pics, then asked their names.
I was completely embarrassed when I realized I had previously met Douglas Dixon, and I am using the excuse of that discomposure to justify my forgetting the name of the second man who helped. I think it was Quinterrius, but I’m likely making a mess of it. I’m sure someone who sees this post will help me get it right.
I am so thankful for people like these two guys, who were willing to help us without a thought of anything in return. You, gentlemen, are yet another answer to Why Woodville? People like you—that’s why.
