Just a Man on the Street

                                                      JUST A MAN ON THE STREET



         In a nice warm bed, I watched the cold rain out my bedroom window.  Where would he be tonight?  The thought made my heart ache.  If I hadn't let him use my phone.  If I hadn't heard the conversation, I probably wouldn't give it another thought.  But I had.

         The first time I had seen him it had been at an AA meeting in Knoxville.  The ones where you say Hi my name is ...... and I'm an alcoholic.  He was as dirty as his fur lined tan jacket, jeans.  Newspaper was visible through holes in his tennis shoes for short term patching from the cold.  He hadn't  bathed in weeks. 

         He sat on the curb and the cup of coffee trembled in his hand.  Alcohol permeated my senses as I came close to him.  I had observed him for about two weeks as he drifted in and out getting cups of coffee never sitting in the meetings. 

         One day after a meeting I saw him behind the desk, someone speaking with him and I thought, "Maybe at last he's going to get some help."  Then as I left that day he was being arrested near the interstate, not quite the help I had in mind.  At least he was getting a hot meal and a cot to sleep on for a night or two.

         I didn't see him for a while and I kept a detached curiosity about this man or should I say empathy about where he was or what was happening to him.  I knew if someone didn't want to stop drinking there was little to be done so I had learned to be careful who I approach to help.  Quite frankly I was repulsed by him, he smelled from not bathing in weeks and just the thought of that was enough to boggle the mind.  What was worse was the painful reality of where I could be.  Maybe I wanted to fool myself and think that I'm better than him but I'm not.  Pick up a drink and I'm him.  Sitting on a curb, cup of coffee in my hand, shaking, unable to stop drinking again, don't want it, not me....         

         He showed up again.  Same way.  Dirty....Sitting on the curb.  Cup of coffee in his hand, trembling, reeking of alcohol.  I glanced at him and again I wondered about him.  This time he spoke to me.  "Hey lady do you mind if I use your cell phone to make a phone call?"

         I didn't know what to do.  Should I?  Was he going to call a dealer?  I would have. While I was thinking he spoke again.

         "It's a long distance call all the way to Michigan.  It's to my daughter.  Please.  I can give you the number."

         I couldn't say no, never could.  "What's the number?" 

         "414-6 . . . . . ."

         I punched in the numbers and said, "That's Wisconsin." 

         "Is it?" he said.

         "It's ringing."  He looked up at me with watery blue eyes.

         I know I shouldn't have stood there and listened but I couldn't help myself part me was guarding my phone and the other part was curious.   

         "Hey, Ivan can I speak to Amanda."  He said and I prayed please let her come to the phone.  At the end of my life on the street my daughters wouldn't take my calls.

         "Hey Mandy it's me.  How are you?"  I felt relief for him.  She'd obviously had a baby.  I'd missed so many important events before I got sober.

         "You did?...How big is it?" 

         "That's pretty big ain't it?"  Sounded like she wanted to know where he was calling from---maybe.  My phone has a Jacksonville area code. I was thinking to myself and trying not to be too obvious about watching him.

         "I'm over here at this AA meeting and this lady let me use her phone?"

         "When you and Ivan going to come and see me?... sometime over the holidays?....What...yeah you know me.... I'm still drinking and all.."

         My heart hurt for them both.  I knew what it was like to want to stop doing something that is ruining your life and yet be trapped in something you feel powerless to stop.

{indent"I think about you everyday Amanda."  His voice cracked.  "I love you."           

         "Hey Mandy I was in Crossville and I was asleep and I was woke up by this friend of mine whose dead but when I woke up I could see him just like he was really there.  It was really weird.  You think that means my Mom is going to die?.... Like one of them premonition things.......  I mean it looked like he was really there......."

         He told her about an experience that sounded like a drunken hallucination, been there, done that myself.  I was sure that she told him the same thing because he ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head sort of frustrated.

         "Yeah you think so...."  Not convinced of what she was saying and then after pausing.

         "I love you too Mandy.  I think about you everyday remember that.  I gotta go now I'm using this lady's phone."

         "I love you Mandy."  He paused for a moment and then..."I really do think about you every day Mandy."  He paused again.  "I love you too... Bye now."

         "Thank you so much lady."  He had tears in his watery blue eyes.

          When I got to my car, my phone smelled of alcohol, and I wiped the smell away.  I watched him go into the clubhouse to get another cup of coffee and I had a lump in my throat. I had trouble seeing the road as I drove home for the tears in my eyes.  But for the grace of God that would be me sitting on that curb, cup of coffee trembling in my hand.

         I never thought about him having a family.  Just thought he was a man on the the street, just another, drunk, homeless guy.  Just like I'd been, just another drunk, homeless, crack addict. I'd had a family too only, they were planning my funeral at the end.  I do understand the insanity, but there came that moment in time when I was willing to do something different.  There are people who reach out there hand to anyone who is willing, but it takes a first step.

         I haven't seen him since that night and I don't judge him.  I wonder where he is on these cold nights? If he has a blanket and a place out of the weather?  Does he have enough food to eat?  Is he still drinking?  I don't know but there is a way out.  Then I wonder if he's still alive.  I hope he finds the solution while he is.

         No one starts out "just a man on the street."  It takes hope to get someone off the street no matter why they are there man, woman, or child. It takes one person helping another and it grows like a chain.  I was given a second chance when someone reached out their hand to me now I reach out my hand to others and so it grows like a giant circle. 

         I have the love, forgiveness, and respect of my family as a part of my life today.  My perspective on life has changed.  All it took was a second chance, complete willingness on my part to do something different, and a helping hand from someone who understood.

         Everyday I run into others just like him and I remember what it was like.  I always keep in the back of my mind as much as it hurts my heart to see others suffer no one could help me until I wanted to change.  Some come to get help and others decide to stay on the street.  On a cold night or a rainy night I still think about all those homeless people on the street no matter how the got there and wonder how the night goes for them.  It was really a power greater than myself  in the form of others that had gone before me and in one that I could not see that made all the difference.  If I can pass that on to even one person then it's worth it to me.