I remember just sitting there at the bar.  I wasn't talking to anybody but wasn't close to seeking out somebody either.  I had just ordered another Corona, my third that night, when a man sat down next to me.  He wore a casual shirt and pair of pants, and looked fairly wore out.  It seemed almost abnormal for a man his age to be sitting in a shady bar like this. 
     He looked over at me and said one thing, “Hi”.  I wasn't expecting conversation but since I was kind of sober I replied with a simple “How are you”?  After that we struck up a conversation  about politics or something and talked for a while.  I eventually got around to introducing myself  and got his name.  I remember even to this day the way his eyes seemed to sparkle when a strange man he met in a bar seemed to find a genuine interest in his topic of conversation.
     We talked for hours on end about everything from the way we get taxed on our property to our favorite kind of  pet to own.  Never once did he ever mention anything about his personal life at home or his family.  He never even told me where he worked matter of fact. He just seemed thrilled to hear the stories of my life and drink beer.  Little did I know the impact I had made on his life.
     At about midnight we finished our drinks and said a final goodbye.  We then headed separate ways.  I never really thought that I would see the man again let alone encounter his family and learn so much about him later on.  At that moment though I had to call a cab because I couldn't even walk in circles let alone in a straight line.  I made it back to my small apartment around 12:30 and crashed as soon as I stumbled up the stairs.
     It was a good thing the next day was Saturday because my head throbbed so bad I could feel it with every step.  I could barely remember the night before but the one clear thing was the old man.  I fixed the coffee and got ready for a shower.  I probably sat in there for an hour but didn't even care.  The water seemed to sober me up but I was still on the verge of puking.  After some Tylenol I got dressed and grabbed some coffee.  I then went for a walk around the city.
     Even weeks later I still hadn't been able to find the man.  I never found out where he worked and he never returned to the bar.  I finally gave up looking until I saw him on the T.V one morning.  The news was talking about a man who society owed a great debt to because of all of the money he donated to the local hospitals and parks around the city.  He was a wealthy man and when they showed a picture of him I nearly dropped my coffee. 
     William H. Tillman was eighty-three years old when he pulled into traffic and was hit by an oncoming drunk driver.  He died on site from a severe head wound.  The drunk driver had mere scratches.  They announced that the participants of his will would be called on a later basis.  I sat there in pure shock, another good man taken from the world while the man who murdered him still gets to live.
     I was cooking lunch when the phone rang.  I was notified I was suppose to meet at the federal court building downtown.  I was confused at first because I had not committed any major crime but decided I had to go anyways. The building was a huge twenty story glass box with a helicopter pad on top.  It was an amazing piece of architect.  I opened the door and asked for room 108 where I was instructed to go.  After I got off the elevator I walked down the open corridor to a room with glass walls and people sitting around a big oak table.
     I entered the room to find an older women and three guys about my age looking back at me.  “What do you think you are doing?” the woman asked with a scornful look on her face.  “This room is reserved for a private manner”.  I looked at her kind of funny before replying. 
     “I received a call earlier that I was suppose to meet here.  What is going on in this room”?   She looked at me again with annoyance before one of the guys spoke.  “This is dad’s will discussion.  We came to see who gets the old bag’s money”. I stood there with a puzzled look before saying anything else.
     “Are you talking about William? If this is about his will I should not be here.  I only met him once at a bar that’s all”.
     “No Jeremy, he mentioned you specifically when he changed his will just days before he died.”  said a women that had just entered the room wearing a black formal skirt and holding a clipboard.  The women I now assumed to be his much younger now widow had an almost constipated look on her face.
     “He never told any of us about a will change!  This is an outrage.” she yelled, strings of spittle flying from her mouth.
     “Ya” one of the boys chortled in response.  “When do we learn about how much money we get”?  By this time I had had enough.  I yelled right back at them with my face bright red.
     “This is probably the reason he changed his will!  He was an amazing man and all you care about is how much money you get, where is my money?  Well I barely knew him and I was upset when I saw that he had died.  Does it mean nothing to you that your own father and husband died? You guys disgust me.  Now could somebody please tell me why I am here”?
     His “family” looked flustered and very angry.   Only the formal lady had a smile on her face before she talked.  “You are here because he has left his money to you.  He said he specifically tired of the way his family mooched of of him and when he met you he felt a new rush he hadn't in a long time.  He said he found someone who would listen to him not because he had money, but because you were his friend.”
     She handed me a yellow envelope with my name on it.  By now the two guys had upped and stormed out of the room while his widow sat there with her head in her hands muttering something and rocking up and down.  “The total inheritance is 3.6 million dollars.  3.5 million has been put into a trust fund specifically for your children should you come to have any.  The other $100,000 is on a check for you in that envelope”.
     I was in absolute shock.  My random acts of kindness had led to a man I met once to leave me his whole fortune.  I left the building a happy man.  By the time I returned home I already had an idea what to do with it. 
     I visited the nursing home a week later with $30,000 and a smile on my face.  The money was going to the facility that took great care of my Alzheimer's controlled great grandmother before she passed.  The money was a gift to say thank you for caring for her and being patient in her last years even though she could be difficult.  I left there with tears in my eyes from seeing the appreciation in the staff’s eyes when I presented them with the check.
     The next $40,000 went to help finish and furnish the new homeless shelter in the rough part of town.  I knew that money can be hard to come by sometimes and thought everyone deserved a new chance or at least somewhere warm to stay.  I got a lot of hugs from the homeless people around the building when they found out it was open because of me.  It didn’t make me feel good for the attention but their level of appreciation was enough to make me smile for a week afterwards.
     I knocked on the door of my mom’s old two story house with a check clutched on my left hand.  She opened it and when she saw me she smiled.  My mother is diabetic and was having trouble affording her medication.  Her house was also very outdated and could use some new touches.  When I handed her the check with $30,000 on it and told her why, she started to cry.  I apologized for anytime I was ever hard on her when I was younger and then took her out to lunch.
     It seems like it was forever ago that I was sitting in that smoky bar even though I still remember it like it was yesterday.  Three years ago I learned an important lesson about priorities and how people matter more than money does.  I now have a wife that is three months pregnant and would not trade her for all the money in the world.