So Long Zip...

Image via WikipediaIt's almost a stereotype, the eccentric loner in a small Southern town. Harper Lee used it in her masterpiece work, "To Kill a Mockingbird" and it's been rehashed over time in various other literary and Hollywood works.

Yet, at least in my hometown the stereotype lived. His name was Andrew N. Counts but most people called him "Zip". "Zip" passed away recently although I only found out about his passing by browsing my hometown newspaper's website.

He was a classmate of my sister and 62 when he passed away.

Zip Counts, appeared to suffer from schizophrenia for most if not all of his life. I can recall seeing him walking down the street holding heated discussion with people no one else could see. Sometimes he would stop dead still and simply gaze into space.

My grandmother, the embodiment of almost every prejudice known to mankind was terribly afraid of Zip. I can recall on Saturday shopping trips she would warn me to cross the street if he was walking down Main Street. Yet, for some reason, Zip never frightened me.

There was something in his connection to things I could not see that intrigued me. I always wondered whose reality was "real" - his or mine? Later, I began to wonder whether the people he found so real actually were real on some level. After all, reality is subjective. We all experience it differently and who's to say which perception is correct? Could Zip have been tapped into some alternate "reality" that was simply kept from the rest of us? Were the invisible (to us) people with whom he held lengthy conversations simply people who were around each of us but whom we choose to ignore or simply cannot see?

One thing I noticed with Zip was that he tended to watch the people with whom he conversed. Many schizophrenics have auditory hallucinations, yet Zip would often turn and address someone as though they were standing near him. He would gaze at someone and his eyes seemed to track movement with his conversational partner.

Over time, I began to wonder if this might be what happens to someone who is truly a medium but who has allowed society to convince they are crazy. Perhaps, it was some combination of schizophrenia or other disorder that opened up a door for Zip that other kept firmly closed. Perhaps, he was just suffering from a tragic disorder.

I did not know him well enough to answer any of those questions, but Zip did start me wondering and that wonder has led, in part, to what I do now and my fascination with perception in paranormal and PSI phenomena.

When I worked in the Public Library I had more opportunity than in the past to interact with Zip. He would come in and pick up a magazine or book to read. He was always extremely polite and seemed to delight in watching the antics of children killing time waiting for story hour.

I found out from the article that Zip was also an animal lover and supported and helped with shelter activities. I had no idea of that side of him.

What most people saw when they looked at Zip was a rather strange man who talked to himself and could wear outlandish costumes. My personal favorite was a hot pink turban of the type you might see a 1940's starlet wear. It was especially fetching when he combined it with mustard yellow pants, orange socks, and multi-colored shirt.

Yet, Zip was much more than that. He was a fixture in town and I can't imagine returning to Newberry and not running into him somewhere, either a restaurant or shop or just walking down the street.

So, goodbye Zip. You'll be missed by many for many reasons. As for me, I thank you for making me wonder about the nature of reality for the first time and opening up a lifelong interest in spirituality and perception although you never knew you did that.