It was a near daily experience for me to see this unassuming guy running, pounding the streets in Sliema as I waited for the bus in the 1980s. I could tell how long the bus had taken to arrive by seeing how far this guy had run. It was like a ritual.
I always wanted to jog, but as a somewhat messed up teenager, I was more interested in smoking and other debaucheries.
Work then got in the way and any ambition I had of taking up running as a sport faded away. But this guy kept appearing, and I kept watching him stride along. And I kept thinking that someday I would run, too.
As this guy ran, it seemed as though he was made of two extra-long legs and had a stride that professional runners would be envious of. As I upgraded to a car and left ‘my’ Sliema bus stop opposite Gelateria, I still saw him numerous times, mainly in my hometown.
And each time, I promised myself that one day I would start running, too. I later saw the guy had competed for Malta, and even won medals in the Small Nations Games, and I knew that if I had started running, maybe I too could someday make it to the papers.
That never happened, but what did was that many years after I first saw Gerald DeGaetano I took up running and have completed two marathons so far, and am training for another.
I never met Gerald, but he was an inspiration. For this, I thank him and consider him a friend I never met.