In Focus

A conversation at a gas station this morning got me thinking.

I walked in and spotted a wad of dollar bills on the floor. Another customer said it wasn’t his and handed it to the cashier to hold in case someone came looking for it.

Most of us have come across random money at some point—a $20 in a parking lot or a dollar bill blowing down the sidewalk. Depending on the amount and the circumstances, you either pocket it or turn it in to the police or a nearby business and hope the rightful owner comes back for it.

I once found $500 in the parking lot of a jail.

I was about seven years old, and my mom and one of her friends were visiting someone at a jail in Southern California. I remember being told inmates weren’t allowed to wave from the windows, so they would wipe them with rags instead. It was one of those bright, sunny California days.

As we walked through the parking lot, I happened to look down and saw a roll of cash lying on the ground. Mom and her friend counted it—$500.

My memory is a little fuzzy, but I believe we turned it in when we went inside. A few weeks later, Mom got a call saying no one had claimed it, so we got to keep it.

I got McDonald’s and a toy out of the deal. I remember eating it at my mom’s friend’s house while watching music videos. One memory stands out clearly: Michael Jackson’s Thriller playing on the television.

I don’t remember anything about the person we visited in jail. I don’t remember much from inside the building at all. But I do know that $500 probably came at a good time. Raised by a single mother working multiple jobs, I’m sure it eased some stress over groceries and bills.

It also makes me wonder, who would have $500 at a jail? Was it being snuck in or out? Why would you carry that much cash on you...in the 1990s! We will never know.

It’s funny what pieces of childhood stay with us and what fade away. I don’t remember riding in a limousine to Disneyland (found on home video), but I remember finding $500 in a jail parking lot. It’s funny how our memory works—and how sometimes the smallest moments are the ones that stick with us the longest.