Red lights glaring from hanging posts bring traffic to a halt at the intersection of Myatt Drive and East Old Hickory Boulevard in Madison, Tenn. A man selling Faith Unity newspapers waves and smiles for hours on this corner nearly every day. The elderly man is wearing two sweaters to fend off the chill of this cold fall day. His layered sweaters are neatly accompanied by a cane and United States Marine Corps hat, which complements his white hair.

“I used to have a [VW] Bug too,” the man yells to me from across the street. “Yeah, I loved that car. Fixed it myself when it broke down and it never broke again!”

Luckily, my VW Bug window is rolled down during these several seconds as the stop light so I can hear the story about this man’s classic car.

“I’mma have a book written about me, you know,” says the man, Kimmie, from afar. “I have five publishers try’nna hire me.”

The man’s Faith Unity nametag lists his name as Kimmie, but the man says to call him “K.O.” His eyes are noticeably blue, even from a distance. Statistically, less than 1% of African American individuals living in the United States have blue eyes.

“Are your eyes naturally blue?” I ask.

“They’re whatever color you want them to be.” says K.O. “They change color, and sometimes they even glow!”

I park at a defunct car dealership next to K.O.’s corner in order to hear his life story. K.O. smoothly leans against my new-model Bug. I ask if I can take his picture for the paper. He agrees as a smile remains on his face. He doesn’t even have to pose.

“Do you like having your picture taken?” I inquire.

He nods. “I used to be a star, so it comes naturally.”

K.O. says he recorded songs as a vocalist in Oklahoma City and has even sung live on television. After his singing career, K.O. founded two Christian Concert Centers in Oklahoma that were very successful, an accomplishment which ultimately brought him to Nashville.

He found a vacant building in Nashville he called “Spurrs,” which was a broadcasting station that had been closed for years. K.O. had the right opportunity to get the building for his center, which is how he ended up in Music City.

K.O. has even ventured to write his own autobiography before the publishers write a book about him. The book is titled “My Life and Death Testimonies: Kidnapped.” K.O.’s autobiography covers stories about his childhood, near-death experiences, days in Vietnam and more.

“[While writing] I’m moved by the events coming alive again in my mind,” says K.O.

Along with finishing his autobiography, K.O. sells Faith Unity in his spare time. K.O. is 70 years old and lives off Social Security money, so he uses selling the paper to meet new people in his own backyard . . . literally. K.O.’s corner where he sells the paper is right behind his small, white cottage in Madison. Considering he is disabled, this job is perfect for K.O.

K.O. was a cadet for the Los Angeles Police Department beginning in the summer of 1965. This job led him to serve in the United States Marine Corps.

“A buddy of mine and I decided we wanted to be U.S. Marines,” says K.O. “We joined the Los Angeles Police Department together, so we wanted to join the Marines together.”

Unfortunately, K.O. could not pass the eye exam, so he begged a recruiter to help. Eventually, the recruiter saw K.O.’s passion for the job, so he was sent to an optometrist to be coached through an eye exam.

K.O. served faithfully in the Marine Corps for four years beginning at the age of 21 as a “machine gunner.” After the war, K.O. settled down in Los Angeles and married his first wife. His wife later gave birth to a healthy baby boy named Kimmie, named after him.

“He was a fine son,” says K.O., “A bit hard-headed like me, but I loved him.”

During the time of his family’s growth, an earthquake swept through their home and nearly killed K.O.’s wife and child. Within six months, K.O. and his family were on their way to Oklahoma City. They chose this city for its lack of earthquakes. K.O. lights up while explaining how he drove a 1956 Jaguar XK140 drophead convertible pulling a 1939 teardrop camper trailer to escape from California.

“Yes,” says K.O. fondly, “I love the classics.”

Now, years later, K.O. is married to a 40-year-old woman and is considering divorce. Mainly because of the age difference, K.O. feels like he is more settled than his wife.

“Hello?” K.O. says, answering his cellphone. “Yeh, I’m out on the corner.”

K.O.’s wife called to see where he is. He assured her another person is interested in writing the story about his life. Upon finishing the short discussion, K.O. hangs up.

He asks if I have to get home, and I comfort him in saying that I have time to talk. After explaining to K.O. that Hendersonville is my home, he pipes up and says he used to live in an apartment there.

“I loved the lake,” says K.O. happily. “The complex I lived in had a dock where I could fish.”

“Do you like fishing?” I ask.

“Yes. . . ? I say that hesitantly because I haven’t been in so long!” says K.O.

So, in the near future, K.O. and I are going fishing together on his old dock as a double date with our significant others. Sometimes, you can make a friend, and possibly save a marriage, by simply rolling down your window.