Nancy The Doppelganger, Javier The Angel

For as long as I can remember during my adult life, I have been stopped by people on the street, in elevators or at the store who say, “I know a person who looks just like you” or “Is your name Nancy?” They always look up at me in wonder at how similar I look to someone they know. It’s funny; I don’t think I have a very common look, but this has happened to me at least a couple of times a year for about 30 years. Here is how one such chance meeting unfolded:

I became part of a group of freeway fighters back in 2009. We named ourselves the No 710 Action Committee and our mission was not only to strategize about how to keep the 710 Freeway tunnels from being built but also to propose better transportation solutions. It was a diverse group of concerned citizens from all over northeast Los Angeles. We met once a month on weekends and took turns hosting robust meetings.

On one occasion, we met in the city council chambers in one of the municipal buildings. The entrance at the back of the theater-style room was off a courtyard shared with the police department and other city offices. For some reason on that day I sat at a desk just inside the foyer rather than with the other members.

After the meeting started, an older gentleman wandered in. He moved slowly using a walker and I realized that he wouldn’t be able to navigate the steps down to sit with the group. I leaned over and whispered to him that I would be happy to share the space at the desk – there was an extra seat. He indicated, “No thanks” and pointed to the door. Sensing that he wasn’t there for the meeting, I got up and followed him outside to the courtyard. He said that he had been shopping nearby but when he returned to his car it wouldn’t start. He needed to call for roadside service.

Since we were about 20 steps from the police department, I suggested that he use their phone and escorted him to the door, but it was locked. Apparently, there wasn’t public access on Saturdays. I quickly pulled out my flip phone and said that he could use it to call the automobile club but, looking uncomfortable, he handed me his membership card and I made the call instead. His name was Javier.

While I was waiting for the technician to answer, Javier looked up at me with the sweetest eyes and said, “You look just like my niece.”

I retorted, “Is her name Nancy?”

He said, “Yes! How did you know? Her name is Nancy Martin.” She had the same last name as my childhood name. At that moment, I realized that this was no ordinary encounter. I finished the call while Javier jokingly called me Nancy. I felt an immediate kinship to this jovial stranger.

We walked together down the street to where his car was parked and he assured me that he would be fine waiting for the tow truck to come.

A little while later, the service number called trying to locate Javier. I went down the block and waved the tow driver over to where he stood propped on his walker. Javier smiled up at me and said, “Well, hello Nancy!”

As the truck pulled up, I checked with Javier again and asked if he was going to be okay. He said, “Yes, thank you, Nancy” with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. Then we said our goodbyes.

I left feeling that I had done my good deed for the day but also knew it had been so much more. The seemingly random encounter had brought joy to my heart. I never really believed in angels but that day I felt like I had met one. It was a delight.

If you happen to see Javier around town, tell him Nancy says, “Hi.”

Susan Bolan
susanbolan710@gmail.com