In 1999 he was 36 years old, which is when he decided to make a cross country trip from Chicago towards the West Coast. Evidently, he had jobs lined up in the construction trade. But, when he arrived in Las Vegas the jobs had been taken over by others.
The massive blow took an emotional toll. He now works a mix of day labor jobs and collects cans to recycle. He has lived on the streets of Vegas since 1999.
“In Las Vegas, nothing ends very well.”
I recently ran into Dwayne again in Nashville. He is the 49-year old gentleman who I talked to who wanted me to find his sister to tell her he was okay.
I talked to his sister about two or three weeks ago after meeting Dwayne one night. It took me about two days to find her, but I did find her.
She told me a story of heartache filed with mental illness, drug and alcohol addiction within her family. We talked about how Dwayne has never received proper help and how growing up was a battle for her.
In my conversation with the Illinois native, she described how her father use to make her and Dwayne fight in the front yard to provide him (the father) with entertainment. She talked about how her mother sold drugs and how that affected her for life.
I could go further into the details of Dwayne's life involving his sister, but out of respect for her I won't. She is doing good today and has not had contact with her brother in over 15-years for personal reasons. Those reasons make sense.
“I had noticed that both in the very poor and very rich extremes of society the mad were often allowed to mingle freely.” ― Charles Bukowski, author of Ham on Rye. Bukowski was influenced by the social, cultural, and economic ambiance of his home city of Los Angeles.
She lives a lonely life filled with men and never stops at a temptation. When I see a prostitute on the street I wonder what happened in her life that made her turn to selling her body.
In most cases I have learned that the females and males who sell themselves were victims of sexual abuse as children and often grew up fatherless. While it may sound like a blanket statement, it is. I say that based on my conversations with women I have photographed who have openly told me about their past. I also base it on people whom I have talked to who did not want to be photographed because of their past or current situation involving prostitution.
One woman told me, “After I perform the services, I go home and fill the tub with water, get inside the bath and cry for hours.” I will never forget that statement. She told me that she prostituted to buy crack cocaine as a way to forget her past.
“I’ve been all over the place, even Amsterdam,” he told me. I had to ask after a pause, “So what drugs did you try there?” He laughed a little, “Pot, only pot.” He told me that he loved to travel, I agreed that traveling is always an adventure – especially on foot.
"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page." - Saint Augustine
“I go to the Methadone clinic every morning [pointing down the street],” he stated. “But, I’m clean now – I’ll probably have to be on it forever though.”
He then told me about the dealers down the street near the clinic selling drugs outside of McDonald's. As I walked through the alleged drug sellers to reach my next destination, it was more than obvious what they were doing. They would sit in groups of two or three and after an order was placed, another man would walk around the corner with the goods in pocket.
Methadone: Treats moderate to severe pain. Also used together with medical supervision and counseling for treatment of narcotic drug addiction. This medicine is a narcotic pain reliever.
“I sleep over there [pointing towards a church],” he told me. “But man, when it gets cold it gets down to negative 10 or lower,” talking about Chicago nights in the winter.
Out of curiosity, I asked a few people walking past him for money to help with a hotel. People ignored me, walked past me, bumped shoulders with me while shaking their head, rolled their eyes, I could go on and on. It was quite interesting. During this the man in the photo just looked up an chuckled, “See how hard it is to get a few bucks.”
It is called Cloud Gate, but many refer to it as the Bean. It was sculpted with 168 stainless steel plates in 2004 and was not complete until 2006. Despite the multiple plates, it is seamless. You can rub your fingers across the surface and it feels as if it is a piece of glass.
An artist from Britain built the sculpture in downtown Chicago. His name is Anish Kapoor.
In case you are curious, it is 66-feet long, 33-feet wide and 42-feet tall.
"No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist." - Oscar Wilde
She was sitting by herself at 6 in the evening in the shadows of Chicago near the lake. She had a hospital bracelet on her right wrist and a walker sitting behind her.
I asked, “When was the last time you ate?” She looked up and said, “Yesterday morning.”
Without skipping a beat I quickly got her some hot beef stew, a yogurt, sandwich and more.
Needless to say she never had to say the words thank you, I saw it in her face.
“Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud.” - Maya Angelou
She was sitting by herself in front of a closed Macy’s store on a Sunday in downtown Chicago. “The cops don’t do anything around here [pointing down the street], some gang banger hit me in the shoulder right there,” she told me. As she talked another homeless man who appeared to be in his own state of mind came up asking for money, she yelled for him to leave.
“I’ll make it,” she told me, “But I hate it here.”
“Opportunities to find deeper powers within ourselves come when life seems most challenging.” - Joseph Campbell
I thought to myself, “How can you play beautiful music on the saxophone and be so miserable?” As I walked past him I thought to myself, “I only have a $20 and I need to get some change to give him.” I was on my way to a small eatery to buy a homeless man something to eat as I snapped the photo of the saxophone player in Chicago.
After I took the picture my intent was to come back and give him a few bucks. However, he changed those intentions quickly as he put the saxophone to the side and yelled while pointing at his case, “Hey, you better put some money in here – I’m not shittin’ ya, you better pay!” I smiled and continued to the eatery.
As I walked back by with food in my hand I smiled thinking, “I would have given you a few bucks if you did not have the outburst.”
I wonder what he is going through? I will never know. Sometimes, stories are not meant to be told.
"You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger." Buddha
He knew the words by heart as he sang by himself in a tunnel that led to the Navy Pier in Chicago. His song, Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
The tunnel went under the roadway and was a safe haven from rain or snow in winter months. It was well lit and fairly clean.
His hair was dyed purple, matching his shirt and his fingernails. After I snapped the photo he wanted to know if I could record him singing.
“I'm singing in the rain, just singing in the rain; What a wonderful feeling, I'm happy again.” - Arthur Freed
He was sitting in the shadows of a large Chicago building on the concrete windowsill. His face looked as if it were carved, almost unreal. As I stood and watched people walked by I noticed he would talk to everyone as if he were digging for conversation. “Hello, beautiful evening,” he would say never discouraged by a lack of dialogue.
As I kneeled down in front of him he enthusiastically told me that he has been sober since October 25, 1998. He told me he got sober the day after he was arrested for burglary on October 24, 1998. I could tell he was proud.
When he introduced himself, he pulled out his ID card to show me his full name. He then showed me his debit card, I think he was proud to be clean and on his own.
54-Year old Alen Kilbert Jr. is doing great today. That’s the story that he gave me. He was all smiles as he talked about his past being just that, his past
“Laughter is day, and sobriety is night; a smile is the twilight that hovers gently between both, more bewitching than either.” - Henry Ward Beecher.
“No one believes it is my birthday,” he told me with a slight frown. I smiled, “I believe ya’, I’ll find you a birthday cake.”
I searched the block he was sitting on in Chicago, Illinois but the only place open on a Sunday that had anything remotely similar to a cake was a Starbucks. Remembering that he lacked teeth and was scheduled to get new dentures on Monday, I also got him a yogurt, a banana and an orange juice. Of course, I also got him what looked to be some type of a pound cake with white frosting on the top.
When I gave him the cake he smiled and shook my hand while saying, “Thank you.” I then gave him a few bucks so that he can sleep in a bed as opposed to the dirty city streets on his birthday.
“Happiness... consists in giving, and in serving others.” - Henry Drummond, a Scottish evangelist, writer and lecturer.
He was sitting in a wheelchair outside of a local eatery in Chicago. Most people walked past him without making eye contact as he said, “Hello – how are you?” to passerby’s. So, I stopped.
He told me with a smile that he lives in a nursing home down the street. “Do you like it,” I asked? He looked up as he told me how great it is to live there.
He was starving for conversation and friendship while enjoying the outdoors in the Windy City.
Franklin D. Roosevelt stated, “If civilization is to survive, we must cultivate the science of human relationships - the ability of all peoples, of all kinds, to live together, in the same world at peace.”