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Philadelphia, PA10406 Posts
I was walking across campus an hour ago, and came across a man slowly walking in the other direction. He looked up at one point and noticed me and walked towards me. So I stopped. He told me that he had spoken earlier this year at my school, that he had hoped for a job as a janitor with my school but had not gotten one, and had just been hired at a different college nearby. He was 51. His wife had died in her sleep next to him three years ago. His son had been shot and killed two years ago. He knew these dates exactly. I remember December 6th, 2009 was when his son had died. I've tried looking this up, but I can't find anything about it.
He said he was cold. He said that a lot. He told me he believed in Jesus Christ, he told me I had a light around my head, he told me that he thought pot should be legal and that he didn't care whether I loved men or loved women. He said he had fought in Vietnam. He said his right hand had been mangled due to frostbite. He brought it out of his pocket for a moment. It wasn't a full hand. He told me that there were 3700 homeless people in St. Paul alone. I don't doubt this number, it might even be greater than that. He asked me to walk him to the bus stop, so I did.
But it's too late for a bus, and the shelter on campus isn't one of the bus shelters with a heat lamp. So we stood in the orange light and he repeated a lot of what he had said before. He told me to take my education seriously. He told me to come to a lecture on homelessness that is happening in a week. I didn't tell him that the campus is mostly closed next week; it's a break. He asked me what my biggest problem was, and I told him I had no idea. I'm a white male living in the United States of America, going to an excellent school. My parents are architects. I have a warm coat. He tells me that my biggest problem is now him.
As we're standing in the bus stop, I can't stop thinking about what would happen if he pulled out a gun, or lunged at me with a knife. I'm from New York City, I've walked past homeless people on a regular basis for years. I sometimes think it's unfair to everyone when someone is asking for money in public places. But I can't stand that thought so I bury it. What else would I do in that situation? Maybe someday it'll save my life to be prepared for a quick draw, or a knife thrust. But it seems ridiculous now. I had a warm coat. I was in a position of power, but I ignored it, and in a perverse way allowed myself to imagine being the victim.
I asked him how I could help him, and he took a while to get to it. I don't have a car. I didn't have my wallet on me. He said there was a shelter several miles away. You needed 32 dollars to get in, he said. I asked him where it was, and he gave me the address. But I couldn't get him there. How could I help?
"Can you go and get money?" he asked.
I'm not doing justice to his words. That phrase on the page seems callous and calculating. I don't think for a minute that it was. But I couldn't give him money. I told him I didn't have my wallet on me. That was the case. He said, can you go and get it? I said I couldn't. I said I didn't have money.
There is equal parts truth and fiction to that. I didn't believe I had $32 in my wallet. It's taken me thirty minutes to work up the courage to check. I was right, I have $9. He asked me if I had a card. I do, but there are no atms open. I don't know where I would go to withdraw money.
I don't have money to give, I said. He had no other suggestions. I asked if I could help flag down a car that could take him where he wanted to go. Would anyone stop at 2:30 in the morning? Would anyone be willing to selflessly assume my burden? I tried to find a place that would be open, but he didn't know of one, and neither did I. What would we do there? Would they have an atm? Maybe? Would I go back and get my wallet? Maybe. I just wanted to find someplace warm. I wanted to find someone else who would help me. Suddenly I was the one who needed the help.
He started crying at one point; not dramatically, but in the way those horribly racist "noble savage" depictions of Native Americans would have a single tear perched upon a wrinkled cheek. I didn't know what to do.
"Go find someplace warm." he said.
"I'll be fine." I said.
But I wasn't, really, and neither was he. He kept repeating that it was cold, and we were both getting frustrated in a way that I'm ashamed of. I didn't know what to do. I wanted him to give me an out. I wanted him to volunteer someplace warm that I could take him to. I wanted him to let me try to hail a car. He wouldn't.
"Go find someplace warm." he said.
"Good Luck Peter" I asked. That was his name, he had said.
"Thank you."
"May I shake your hand?"
To his eternal credit, he offered his hand. His right, the one that was bent and couldn't grip, and my right. I walked back to campus, and he walked away. I kept turning to watch where he was going, and then lost him at one point because I believe he turned up the street.
There are two parts of what happened that I will probably embellish beyond their worth in later retelling. This blog might keep me honest. I'm not proud of what I did.
But I was willing to listen to this man, maybe a little out of his mind, maybe just a little drunk, maybe both, I couldn't tell. I was willing to at least take the smallest of steps. You won't forget me, he told me at one point. I'd be proud if I did not. When I returned to my dorm, I called 911. I told the dispatcher what I knew; African American Male, around 5''8, black coat, blue jeans, slow walker, name Peter. I told them where he had said he was going, and I told them where I thought he was actually headed when I had last seen him. I gave them my name and my phone number. I hope I am called back.
I need to go to sleep.
 
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Okay, just getting this out there now.
Sidebar says "Meeting a ho..."
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thanks for that nice story, read the whole thing
very powerful and puts your lives in perspective. so many things i take for granted. but then you realise that people like him, or for example anyone born in the more unfortunate countries, would be living in an entirely different world almost. when we are treasuring what we have, are we forgetting everything else?
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On March 08 2011 18:41 Torenhire wrote:
Okay, just getting this out there now.
Sidebar says "Meeting a ho..."
LOL! My thoughts exactly.
I read the story though. Don't really know what to say. Being homeless sucks and you gotta make sure it doesn't happen to you or loved ones. There's always that chance, I guess we have to find a way to minimize that chance, because I sure as hell would not be able to survive homeless.
Maybe the moral of the story is to be thankful towards your parents / loved ones and remember in the future it'll be your moral duty to make sure your children won't be homeless either.
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Wow, that was quite touching really, nothing of what I expected when I clicked the "Meeting a Ho..."
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United States24767 Posts
On March 08 2011 18:41 Torenhire wrote:
Okay, just getting this out there now.
Sidebar says "Meeting a ho..."
Let me know if this isn't a good fix.
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nothing beats the name Young Ho!
man, just read the story sorry about that. Wow, that's like a very strong perspective.. Homeless people here is very different, they somehow get what they want since people pity and give alms to these types.
It's cool that you weren't even disgusted when you shook his hand. Probably you'll have a hobo friend now.
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I'm glad you didn't give him any money.
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I don't understand why you had to call 911, is it to help him or to arrest him or what? Sorry my american convention isn't too clear but I assume 911 is calling the cops? I wasn't sure what you told the cops to do so...
In any case there are plenty of homeless in Berkeley too and most of them are just crazy. This guy though, I dunno I would help him. He's really tried to hold a job and poor guy 
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^^ True true, you see tons of homeless in Berkeley.
I don't really know what to think of this blog either.
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why the fuck did you call 911? i see homeless everyday where i live. i know most of them by name. all of their stories. its a bummer, what the fuck am i going to do, im as poor as them, just lucky enough to have a roof over my head myself recently. infact, my friends/girlfriend give me shit everyday for giving what little spare money i carry around to the homeless in my community. im also quite possibly one of the biggest assholes alive, but i still care about the homeless. posts by zerokaiser literally make me sick to my stomach.
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2nd Worst City in CA8938 Posts
Probably called 911 to make sure the homeless man made it safely to the shelter.
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On March 08 2011 20:11 Souma wrote:
Probably called 911 to make sure the homeless man made it safely to the shelter.
i sure hope so. >_<
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On March 08 2011 19:13 Zerokaiser wrote:
I'm glad you didn't give him any money.
Why? Even if he spends it on drugs, he still needs it. If he spends it on alcohol, fuck it man the guy lives in the street, let him have a drink.
Anyway, it sounds like this guy just happened to hit breaking point on the day you met him. Sometimes people just hit that low when they're so desperate they'll reach out for any human contact available, and you gave that to him.
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On March 08 2011 20:11 Souma wrote:
Probably called 911 to make sure the homeless man made it safely to the shelter.
Calling 911 propably didn't help him at all.
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just so you know don't call 911 for things like that, find you local PD number and call that. 911 is for emergencies and they could fine you if it was not an emergency, as a college student that would suck badly.
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You know I walk past homeless guys all the time.(I live just outside of NYC and I'm there pretty much every weekend.)
I dunno exactly what I'm typing here but, I read the whole blog and I just wanted to say I really... liked it.
That sounds weird, I dunno. I didn't like it like, gained pleasure from reading it while sipping a glass of brandy.
I enjoyed reading it.
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Katowice25012 Posts
This is a really good story, I suspect your sleep last night was restless.
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Why would you need 32 dollars to get in the shelter? Isn't a shelter for those people that don't have that kind of money available?
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On March 08 2011 21:03 The KY wrote:Show nested quote +On March 08 2011 19:13 Zerokaiser wrote:
I'm glad you didn't give him any money. Why? Even if he spends it on drugs, he still needs it. If he spends it on alcohol, fuck it man the guy lives in the street, let him have a drink. Anyway, it sounds like this guy just happened to hit breaking point on the day you met him. Sometimes people just hit that low when they're so desperate they'll reach out for any human contact available, and you gave that to him.
Hate to say this, but the truth is that there are resources out there for the homeless. Free shelters aren't the greatest, but not only are there soup kitchens but also pantries for food. Public libraries offer free job hunting resources (training of skills as well as interviews). Larger churches offer all of the above, as well as counseling for drug-abusers, relationship reconciliation, and spirituality. I know this because I've volunteered all of the above, and spoken to people while doing so.
Not only that, but there are even more resources for those who are younger, abused, or orphaned.
On top of all this, I've been had so many times by homeless people. I've seen one war vet with the kindest eyes show up the morning after with used smack in this pocket the morning after I gave him $20 for a "cab ride to the hospital". Another guy claimed to be needing to get back home to South Carolina, I actually paid for his bus ride back, and yeah I saw him the next day claiming he got mugged. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but when I re-read my journal a few weeks later, I realized I had met him 4 years prior, with a similar story (good thing they don't lie about their full names).
Some guys I couldn't follow-up with -- others, when I have, every single time I've been disappointed. You may call me cynical and jaded, but I've talked with these guys, volunteered with and spoken to social workers, read up autobiographies of people who went through shelters and homelessness -- and the people you see panhandling on the street are for the most part lifers. For them, they see it as their job. Getting money via their stories, that's their "work".
The real people who need your help, they're not on the street -- they look exactly just like you and me. But you'd never see it. Because they're doing the grind, trying to make ends meet with multiple part-time temp jobs, making up when they fall short with pantries, soup kitchens and the resources out there.
Edit: re-reading my post, I think I came off a little harsher than I intended. I can't deny that I've been hurt and embittered by the dozens of times I've been lied to and manipulated for money by the homeless -- that's probably a big factor in my tone of voice in the above post. But I do want to qualify what I said with two thoughts: (1) we are to always feel compassionate for all people, no matter who; and (2) as Mother Theresa once said, what is it to me if the homeless misuse and abuse what I give them? I just need to do what is right. ...But yeah, maybe what I was trying to say was that it might be more effective if we were to volunteer our time rather than our money.
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