The Homeless Experience Part Two

Pictured left to right: Deano, Shane, and Lee

This is the second entry of a three part series I am writing about a recent visit with some homeless men in Richmond. In the first post I wrote about Deano, the displaced coal miner and broken hearted soul who had lost his beloved Ina.
This second entry will be mostly about Lee. A complex man in so many ways who initially unnerved me, but ultimately made me really think about the homeless in a whole new way.





As Deano appeared to withdraw into himself, the tallest man, Lee, came and sat down with us and began to talk.

With a sidelong glance at Deano, Lee's presence had a very strong vibe. He began to talk and it immediately became apparent the attention would now be on him. With a bit of what seemed like arrogance, I wasn't sure how I felt about this man.

Shane approached the small group and inquired about one of the handmade signs laying on the wood pile. With a skilled photographer's eye for detail, he noticed someone had taken the time to attach a piece of art canvas to the wood. "Who's the artist?" Shane asked.
"Me" replied Lee.
Shane acknowledged he knew Lee was skilled at metal and stone work, but not artwork. I noticed a slight, almost embarrassed smile from Lee and wondered at this very familiar type exchange between the two men. It was clear that Shane had taken the time to really get to know these men beyond the standard realm of tossing some loose change and perhaps dropping off some warm soup on a cold winter's night.

Lee said he recently lost his drivers licence due to a DUI. He admitted he had done some time in jail because of it. Something told me that this wasn't his first offense, but I chose not to pry.

As the conversation progressed, Lee shared that he had received an Associates Degree in Business, and had thoughts of returning to school in the hopes of  achieving a Bachelors Degree. The more he talked, the more he interested me. At first, I thought he was bending the truth a bit, but as the conversation progressed, it became evident that Lee really is a man with a great deal of intelligence and I began to wonder how different his life could be if only he had made some different choices.

During the course of our conversation, Lee relayed several stories about his life. Another admission he made was his severe anger management problem he had been forced to deal with. Several years ago, he participated in an intensive and progressive rehabilitation program, designed to help people address unacceptable behavioral issues. He said he ultimately spent three years in the program.
The people enrolled in this therapy were expected to know who the Team Leads were, Program Managers, Clinical workers, Therapists, which activities were required on what day, etc. He explained if a participant neglected to complete an assignment, or  memorize what you were required to know, the participant would be held accountable for this lapse in progress due to inadequate preparation. Lee said typically, for most of the individuals in this group, a negative, defensive behavior would then erupt, and the person would have consequences for this behavior. Once the person had their emotions under control, they would then have to implement ways to improve their responses to negative interactions. As a person progressed within the program, they would then be assigned more responsibility and assist other people who were enrolled. Lee explained many, many aspects of the program in great detail. Quite honestly, I was amazed at how well he articulated the entire process. I almost felt as if I were checking into the program and he was telling me what to expect.

When he finished describing the program, I asked him if he had ever thought about becoming a counselor, since he seemed so well versed in the program and he could speak from experience. He smiled, looked at me with those twinkly blue eyes and proceeded to tell me that during the course of the program, he became an expert at helping others to deal with their issues and progress through the program. However, he was approached by his own Team Leads and asked why he had aced this task of helping others, but when would he deal with his own behaviors?
By the gleam in his eye, I could see when he was asked that question, in that environment, the proverbial light bulb went off in his head. Lee began to address his own unacceptable behaviors.

Shortly after the conversation ended, he made mention of a dear friend of his, Jennifer. He assured me she was only a friend, but often certain people felt threatened by that friendship so they didn't see each other very much. I had the distinct feeling  the "certain people" might be Jennifer's boyfriend. For this reason, Lee did not see her very often because he didn't want any trouble to come of it for either one of them.

His affection toward Jennifer was very obvious. I got the feeling he felt a bit protective of her, but in a big brother sort of way. Once, he told me, when they stopped at a homeless center for a hot meal, they were told Jennifer could not enter. Both women and children were not allowed at that center, due to some issues that had happened in the past.
Lee was very upset that she was not allowed in. He was not willing to leave without saying something, as Jennifer was hungry and it was cold outside. Instead of becoming angry, he decided to calmly use the positive behaviors he had learned from the behavior modification classes and spoke with the head of the center. Lee lodged a formal complaint and explained to the Director the reasons he found the new rule unacceptable. He proudly stated that by using the skills he had learned in the behavior modification program and dealing with the problem in a positive manner, there was a chance that a new center, specific for women and children, might be in the works. It struck me that the majority of this pride was not for himself, but the thought of the end result of a need being fulfilled. Lee appeared to have a genuine concern regarding women living on the streets, with nowhere to go.

Shane decided it was time to drive to the store. As we entered the car, I insisted Lee take the front seat because his legs were much longer than mine. After a bit of a gentlemanly protest, we headed the few blocks to the convenience store.

Along the way, we passed an abandoned truck that clearly was not part of the normal landscape. Shane asked Lee how long it had been there. Lee replied "a few days".
That opened the conversation for a question I had been wanting to ask. "How safe do you feel living out here?"
Lee said overall he felt pretty safe. The group of men stay in pairs and all are fairly close by each other. He stated that some areas are safer than others and pointed to a store across the street. "See that store? A guy got killed there last week."

We turned left and pulled up to another convenience store. There were bars on the windows and it reminded me of my younger days when I would go to downtown Detroit. Even back then, those bars always intensified that feeling of a thug with a gun showing up at anytime.
Lee and I entered the store, and I handed Lee the $15 I had in my pocket. I asked him to get Deano's items and use the rest for whatever he needed. Earlier, I had asked Deano if I could buy his items for him, as a thank you for his hospitality and taking the time to talk with me. At first, he told me no, he didn't want anything from me. Touched by his genuineness, I explained that I knew he didn't expect anything, I just wanted to say thank you and that was the only way I knew how.

What happened next surprised me more than anything else had that day. Lee looked at me and said "Deano wants beer and cigarettes. Are you sure you want to buy those for him? I don't know how you feel about that."
Wow. Did not see a statement like that coming from a homeless guy.

I smiled and replied "yes, I know. Deano told me. Thank you, Lee."
As we walked to the cooler, Lee selected Deano's beer of choice. When he bent over to grab the bottle, a young man approached me, pointed to the camera hanging around my neck and said "nice camera". Without much thought, I replied "thank you."
A moment later, he stepped a little closer and said "no, I mean that's a REALLY nice camera."
Suddenly, as I looked in his eyes, I was transported back to Detroit, July 3, 1985, when I was with three friends in downtown Detroit to enjoy the fireworks. The guy I was walking with had refused to remove his gold necklace. He had several pendants hanging from the necklace and it stood out like a sore thumb. As we walked down a side street, there was a group of young men sitting along a stone wall, right above the sidewalk. Needless to say, I saw one of the young men focus in on my friend's neck, saw the intent in his eyes as he focused on the pendants and watched as he quickly leaned over and ripped the jewelery from his neck as he broke into a run down the street. A bit of a scuffle broke out as the pendants fell to the ground. It just wasn't a good night at all.
This man had the exact same look in his eyes as the mugger had.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I couldn't help but think "oh, shit".
As my heart started to pound, I looked him square back in the eyes and calmly and flatly said "and I said thanks."

Lee glanced at the quick exchange, stood up with the beer and the man walked away. He calmly glanced down at me, and said "yea, that IS a really nice camera with a great big logo on the front. People around here really LIKE to have nice cameras."
Feeling like a complete and utter fool for overlooking such a simple safety issue, I nodded my head sheepishly and moved in closer to Lee, using him to block the obvious view of my camera while we were in line. Standing there, it gave me an odd feeling that here I was, acutely aware that I was huddled against a virtual stranger, knowing he had both a criminal record and addiction problems, but yet feeling a sense of appreciation that he'd see me safely back to the car. It still blows my mind, quite honestly.

I don't think Lee thought too much more about the incident, but I suddenly hated that anyone would be be exposed to constant threats, and it simply becomes part of everyday life. Now I am even more curious about the homeless population and why it exists so prevalently in American society. Is it by choice, induced by mental illness? Do some people crave the hardships faced on the streets? If given the chance to start a "normal" life, how many homeless would be successful or even want to try?

When we returned, another man, James, came over and informed everyone he was off to enter the lottery. I wished him luck, silently wondered if he actually won would he extend his good fortune to his homeless friends or just disappear into the sunset.

 Little did I know what the lottery really meant.


*The next entry will be my final entry. I will explain what the lottery is and what I really learned in a few hours that day.