When I stepped back into the lobby, Duane Barnhart, our TV program director and producer, was standing with a man I had never met.

"Ray, I want you to meet Jon. He's a television editor."

"Jon, nice to meet you. I like your T-shirt." His shirt read "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

He said, "I collect T-shirts. I have one that says 'I've forgotten your name already.'"

That made me laugh. Even though I make an effort to remember, like most people, I have a hard time with names.

"So, what have you worked on?"

He then named a few TV programs. We were looking for a Production Assistant, and I presumed that's why Duane was introducing him to me, so I asked, "Are you a Christian?"

"Yes. Kind of."

Duane made himself busy with other things so that I would feel at ease talking with Jon, something I appreciated. I gave Jon a book and asked, "What do you think happens after someone dies?"

"I've been thinking about this stuff lately. I don't know."

"Do you consider yourself to be a good person?"

"Yes."

Over the next few moments, he too proved to be a liar, a thief, a blasphemer, and an adulterer at heart. He was concerned about the fact that he would go to Hell, so we went through the cross, repentance, and faith.

He was awakened to his plight but not alarmed about it, so I said, "See if you can guess how many people die every 24 hours."

"Worldwide? A few thousand?"

"150,000."

"Wow."

"And 42,000 people are killed in the U.S. every year in cars. The next time you get into a car, you may just be getting into a coffin. Think about these issues, Jon. It's not easy for me to talk to you like this, but I have to. It's so important."

He then left, and I went back to hanging the sign.

As I was about to tie it to the gate, two obvious gang-bangers walked down the ally. I said, "Hey, guys, did you get one of these?" I quickly grabbed two tracts from my pocket and handed them one each. As they read the tracts, I said, "There are Christian tracts. Have you had a Christian background?"

One of them answered, "No."

I asked for their names and tried to log them into my memory.

"What do you think happens after someone dies?"

"I haven't thought about it much."

"Where are you going?"