When you least expect it: Accidentally closing the loop on the Bush's Beans chapter

Mom with Christmas presents, Dec. 26, 2017.

Some of my journalist friends will not use the word "accident" after the word "auto."

The thinking is that those "accidents" are avoidable, and therefore, not "accidents."

For example, you didn't need to drive so fast. The other driver was looking at her phone. You were preoccupied by music or the kids screaming in the back seat, and didn't notice the car in your blind spot when you pulled into the passing lane. You could have been more cautious in the area where white-tailed deer cross the road.

You could have taken action to avoid or prevent all of that, maybe.

Not sure I agree, but that argument is understandable.

But I also get that sometimes good accidents — coincidences? happenstance? kismet? — do happen in life.

This happened Wednesday afternoon in Appleton.

If you've poked around this blog, you've seen a few columns about my 96-year-old mom, including two in January (here and here) that reference Bush's Beans as a secret to her long, healthy life.

Fun columns to write, for obvious reasons, and the response from readers has been gratifying.

Bush's Beans was kind enough to send Mom a box of gifts for her decades-long appreciation of their product, and sent me a few coupons for writing the first column about her on Jan. 9.

Back to Wednesday.

I'd just stopped at the downtown Appleton Post Office to mail a large manila envelope of those columns and other Bush's-related stuff to Mom. She hasn't read any of it yet, as far as I know.

I followed with a quick solo lunch at Panera, before another appointment near the Fox River Mall.

Ordered, sat down. Waited for chicken salad sandwich and soup. At the table next to me, a blonde-haired lady sat down with her drink and food, took a quick look at me, plugged her earbuds into her phone and started reading something, don't remember what.

I noticed that she took a couple more looks in my direction, like she knew me from somewhere. That happens sometimes in this relatively small town, from my time at The Post-Crescent.

Finished my meal, took the plates and garbage away, came back to the table to gather my stuff and leave. That's when the blonde-haired lady said, "Excuse me. Is your name Dan?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Are you a friend of Andrew Oppmann?"

"Sure am." Andrew was my boss for 6.5 years at The P-C.

"I'm Susan Bush."

As in Bush's Beans. As in Appleton resident. As in spouse of Jay Bush, the guy in the commercials with his dog, Duke. As in someone I met when she was a member of The P-C editorial board, probably 15 years ago, but hadn't seen since.

Until Wednesday, out of the blue. Sitting next to each other in a Panera. Twenty minutes after I'd mailed a package of stuff about Bush's Beans to my mom.

A happy accident, right? How do you calculate those odds?

Susan had read the columns, and said that they were passed around at a company meeting Jay recently attended at the Bush headquarters in Knoxville, Tenn.

I told Susan that Mom was "over the moon" with the package from the company, and she was happy to hear that. "I love it when we can do something for a customer," she said.

All in all, it was a quick and fun conversation, but that's OK. It happened, it wasn't planned, and it was sincere.

Enough said.

Called Mom a few hours later to tell her about meeting Susan Bush.

There were a few giggles, and a sincere happiness, on the other end.

"I guess you were famous for a day or so, huh?" I suggested. "You were a big deal for a while."

"Well, I guess so," Mom said. "But you know, when people ask me why I look so good, that's the first thing that comes to my head — Bush's Beans."

Yes, I know. And a lot of other people know it now, too.

Case closed. Accidentally, of course.