How a bench, a box and a notebook keep dreams alive in Montgomery County

Right off the trail on the side of Sligo Creek, there’s an ordinary bench that has become something extraordinary.

The bench began as a memorial to one man. But in the years since, it’s brought dozens of people together to share their hopes, dreams and thoughts — one notebook entry at a time.

To understand where the bench came from, you first have to know about Paul Gleason and his devoted widow, Sue.

“Paul was very much a family man,” Sue said. “Very dedicated to our two children.”

“The moments I particularly treasured with him was during family meals, joking around at the table,” Sue told News4.

During his last years, Paul and Sue would go to Montgomery County parks and hike. They would use the benches as literal benchmarks.

“Can you make it to the first bench, the second bench,” Sue explained. “So, a bench seemed really fitting as a tribute.”

But when Sue and Montgomery County Parks first set up Paul’s bench, it didn’t include the box — or the notebook — for which it’s so well known, now.

That came later, right before the COVID-19 pandemic began.

“This box appears out of nowhere, and I’m completely dumbfounded. Where did this come from? Why is it here?” Sue recalled.

That box, a black metal mailbox attached to the bench and complete with blue labels, says it is “A place to share your thoughts, hopes and dreams.”

Inside the box is a notebook, labeled “Bench Book in memory of Paul.”

As of April 26, a total 11 notebooks have been filled with the writings of perfect strangers. The bench now holds notebook number 12.

“Running here every day to get in shape, to join the FBI,” one entry reads. “Tell you if I make it! Wish me luck and health.”

“Screw omicron variant,” another entry from December 2021 reads.

“I hope I find someone to marvel at the world’s magic with,” yet another entry reads. “When you find someone great in your life, let them know how much you appreciate them and don’t let them go.”

On and on, pages and pages tell the tiny stories of dozens, maybe hundreds, of people who have passed through the Montgomery County park.

“I think that some people feel that it’s a release, or an opportunity, that they never even — might not have even thought of before,” Sue said. “I wonder how many people who’ve written here also keep any kind of journal.”

Sue’s been keeping an eye on the notebooks for years. So has the original creator.

“I’m so glad this box and book are still here,” an entry from September 2024 reads. “I built the original one in 2020 right before the pandemic. Not great timing as no one wanted to touch public objects. But gradually, the books filled up with such heart-filled messages. My family and I moved away at the end of 2020 and only visited Takoma Park a few times over the years. Each time I journeyed to this bench.”

The box’s creator — identified only as “Liz” in her entry — is grateful that others kept the box and notebooks going.

Sue is grateful that Liz came back to check in, though they’ve never met face-to-face.

“I kept hoping for so long that a message from the maker of these boxes would finally appear, and there it was,” Sue said. “And my heart stopped. I must have read that a dozen times.”

“Liz is the mysterious woman to whom I’m forever grateful for leaving the box on the back of Paul’s bench,” Sue said.

She added that she’s often wondered how Paul would respond to all of the many entries in the many notebooks.

“He’s been able to encourage people to reflect on nature, and on life,” Sue said. “He’d be profoundly moved by them.”