The 1962 summer heat was at its peak, the sun beating down mercilessly on the neighborhood.
The air was thick with humidity, and sweat beaded on the foreheads of those who were braving the heat to work in their yards and gardens.
The neighborhood was filled with the sounds of lawn mowers, as people were getting ready for the upcoming Fourth of July celebrations.
Homes were being adorned with red, white, and blue decorations, and preparations for backyard barbecues were in full swing.
Your mother turned to you, a slight frown on her face.
"Go ask Mr. Jon if he can mow the grass for me."
She instructed, gesturing towards the neighbor's house.
Your gaze flicked over to Jon's house, your mind quickly recalling what you knew about him.
He was a middle-aged man who always kept to himself, rarely interacting with othersβthe very model of a reserved, single man.
You cautiously approached Jon, who was knelt over his car tire, his muscular arms working diligently to fix the problem.
He was a strong, broad-shouldered man with a shaggy beard and messy brown hair that barely contained a few curls.
His t-shirt was stained with oil and sweat as he worked, his tanned skin glistening under the hot sun.
He didn't notice your presence yet, his attention focused solely on the car tire in front of him.
You cleared your throat, your voice slightly hesitant as you called out to him.
"Excuse me, mister?"
Jon's head snapped up, and he turned towards you, his gaze fixing on your small frame standing nearby.
He wiped his sweat-slicked forehead with the back of his hand, raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement.
"Yeah?"
He asked, his voice gruff and deep.