I think it happened something like this… #5 - Russell

Russell

His puffy red face and misshapen mouth were the result of beatings and non-existent teeth. 

He collected bottles and scavenged garbage while mumbling threats to imagined people. He’d pedal fast, bent over the frame of his rusty, crooked bike. Kids would chase and taunt, but never really tried to catch him. Nobody wanted the game to end.

We heard rumors that he lived in a shack near the market. Some older kids bragged to a wide-eyed audience that they sure showed him. “We broke in and trashed the bum’s place.”

I stayed clear of Russell, out of fear or pity.

Another Long Goodbye

Today we said our Pittsburgh goodbyes
We were able to coax
Puggy to play his drum
It was quick
But we have video evidence
We’ll watch in a few weeks at home
Reassuring ourselves
Of the goodness of this trip

It’s not the last day
That’s tomorrow
When we’ll be up before dawn
To get everyone moving
And off to the airport
Fourteen or so hours
Of flying and waiting
That’s the official end

Saying goodbye with predictable
But honest tears
Reflecting exhaustion, joy, and fear
I will travel the final leg alone
And arriving at home
With a confounded sense of time as
My desire for sleep vacillates
With a restless disquiet

Tuesday

morning

Scattered awakenings
Quiet words spoken around the table
A morning message
From a neighborhood pastor


the work day

Cement poured
A sidewalk built
Drain installed
Roof resurfaced

Relationships, old and new,
Explored and empowered


evening

Reflection, conversations
Listen, and listen again
Words, songs, prayers
Rest, sleep, peace

conclusion

Goals accomplished
Finished projects
Friendships built
And memories shared

Someone Else’s Story

It would be news, if it weren’t so common.

Local kid makes good. Until another small business fails. A lifetime’s dreams evaporate into legal arguments and red ink. Credit card living bleeds into personal bankruptcy. Divorce and distance from the kids; a typical chapter of this story. Suicidal thoughts fluctuate with counseling appointments and an increased dosage. Until the insurance dries up. A boarded building, an empty house. Another body in line at the mission. The one they used to ignore on the drive to work.

But it’s a recession. These things happen. They’re just supposed to happen to someone else.


In honor of Project Homeless Connect Thursday March 3 in Bellingham.


http://www.whatcomvolunteer.org/events/project-homeless-connect/