Ned Doggett's Project and Counters

For me, it would be fun to know, and interesting to know, whether people in the places they find themselves, ever identify themselves as "COUNTERS. " That identification means that such people like to count things.

And are there people who don't ever count: objects, or people, or cars? Do they realize they belong to the group of "NON-COUNTERS"? I have no idea which group boasts more members and have decided to conduct this informal research into the matter.

Around 1960, I learned about the existence of "counters." Ned Doggett a well known builder in the Fulton Chain of Lakes, agreed to build a new covered, concrete box to hold the spring's water, (The neighborhood of camp owners on both sides of Pine Creek paid for the spring box to be rebuilt.) (Pine Creek crosses the South Shore road at Fourth Lake).

When the new box was in place, I, and other property neighbors went to see it. Malcolm Murray, (deceased 2005) the late son-in-law of my husband's and my late co-owner, Rev. Herbert Baird, came along to see the new box. After Malcolm had looked at the construction, he went over to the pile of cement bags, and began to pick them up one by one. After he had picked up a bag, he tossed it into a second pile.

When he had finished, Malcolm smiled. He may have announced his finding to the rest of us. He now knew the number of bags of cement it took to build the spring box. I said to Malcolm, "Why are you interested in the number of bags? Malcolm said, "Because I'm a counter."

The spring box is still intact, but the amount of cement used, as the past, has vanished.

Malcolm, I discovered, was only the first of many counters I've met since then. I had never known that some people, wherever they are, have the need, or desire, to count things. Other people seem not to have that interest or desire.

Later that summer in Indiana, I discovered a fact I didn't know about my mother, (now deceased.) In that long ago conversation, I told Mother of our new spring box, and of Malcolm counting the empty cement bags.

I think I said, " Mother, did you ever hear of anyone like Malcolm who counts things?" Mother said, "Of course I have! I'm a counter, too." She said, “If I'm in an auditorium waiting for a program to begin, I count ceiling tiles, or rows of seats, or the number of men present versus the number of women.

I couldn't believe it! My own mother was one of "them," and I didn't know it. She as others, live among us, and rarely disclose their bent toward "counting."

2004 update: I’ve recently learned from e-mail that some of my friends, without me knowing it, are “counters.” Some people fill a waiting time with counting. Other people either have a need to know a quantity in their midst, or just find it fun to know. It's fun to learn more about the people we know.
marylee manson armour