Missing the past

“I’m 42 and from South Carolina,” he told me. I met him on the streets of Louisville, Kentucky this past Sunday. I asked if he had any family and he told me that he does, but had not seen his parents in over 10-years. “Are you working right now,” I asked with curiosity? “Naaah, just trying to hustle, how much is that picture worth,” he asked? I laughed and said, “You don’t have to pay me.” 

As the conversation continued, I quickly realized that he greatly misses his parents. Again, he has not seen them in over 10-years.

He then talked about attending high school in South Carolina where he grew up in the small county of Greenwood. The population today is barely over 23,000 residents with only 0.19% being African American. In the 1990’s when he attended high school, the population stood at 20,000. 

The New York Times reported in 2011 that the county of Greenwood experienced the highest economic decline in the United States. One reason, the deindustrialization of the textile mills that once held the county together. 

I asked, “Are you homeless today?” He told me that he lives with friends.

My Step Father, My Step Father

I saw him picking up change in the parking lot of a closed liquor store on a Sunday morning. I stopped to talk and handed him what little change I had. Another homeless man passing by asked me if I had anything else to spare… This man [pictured] then walked over and gave the other homeless individual the change I just gave him, plus the change that he picked up in the parking lot.

In our brief conversation he told me that he battles with mental illness 24/7. “Are you suffering from schizophrenia,” I asked. “Yes,” he told me while never making eye contact. “What do you see when you go through an episode,” I asked… The mood changed as he looked down at the ground scrunching his eyes closed. He moved his arms and hands to describe to me what he saw.

“He is a tall and hairy man, mean – my step father – my step father,” he repeated. It was obvious that his schizophrenic episodes were based on his childhood reality. I did not inquire further as I felt like he was too overcome with emotional pain. Our conversation ended as he simply turned and calmly walked away not saying a single word. 

U.S. Marine at Hippie Hill

Today at Hippie Hill in Tennessee I met this fella (pictured), who was actually born in England, but moved to California as a child:

“I enlisted in the U. S. Marine Corps at the age of 17 with the idea of going to Vietnam to help my friends,” he told me as he got serious. Then he smiled and said, “Little did I know, the Marines had different plans for me… I never went to Vietnam.” He was sent to Japan where he began his education, paid for by Uncle Sam. He eventually became a Flight Controller and once out of the Corps, he went on to be a stockbroker. No, you would never guess that by looking at him. To me, that was the cool part.

Synthetic Marijuana - Not good

Albert Einstein once stated, "Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better." I think he was correct. 

I went to Hippie Hill today and simply sat and relaxed for a few hours this evening. As I sat on a lawn chair at the bottom of the hill I talked with Hippie Tom and Dwight Teagarden about life and the problem we are facing in Murfreesboro over synthetic drug use. Without a doubt, they agreed how dangerous synthetics are on our youth and adults who assume they are just like real marijuana. Their words… “They’re not!!! [They are in no way similar and much more dangerous].” 

Heroin is very real in Tennessee

Heroin is real: “My boyfriend died of a Heroin overdose last month… I’m all alone,” she told me. “His family continues to threaten me, he was married, but I did not know that at the time,” she said while looking down at the ground. We visited with her at the group home she is currently living in, deep into the bowels of downtown Nashville. She is currently living in a group home while emotionally overcoming not only the death of a loved one, but overcoming her own problems. She too was a heroin addict, but has not used in quite some time. Considering the circumstances, she is doing well.

Because her story and life are so fragile, I made sure it was okay to share her story even asking her twice. My thought is that perhaps her story could help someone else.

My friend Chris Spence noticed her Florida Gators Tattoo and she told us that she moved to Tennessee after her gastric bypass surgery. I smiled and said, “Man, you have already overcome so much.” She told us with a glimmer of hope, “I use to weigh over 400-pounds.”

Prior to visiting her, we stopped by the grocery store and carefully selected foods that included fresh fruits that would agree with her diabetic diet. She was so thankful.

"Strength and growth come only through continuous effort and struggle." - Napoleon Hill

Hello Ms. Debbie

Ms. Debbie saw me take a photo of someone and immediately said, "Oh, you're taking pictures. Do you want to take mine?" I smiled, "Of course I do Ms. Debbie." She then sat on her cooler and said, "Okay... I'm ready."

For those who do not know Ms. Debbie, you should. She makes me laugh every time I see her because of the funny sayings she has. For example, if there is a fly in the car and I am taking her somewhere she will say something to the effect of, "Hello Mr. Fly, what are you doing in here - you aren't supposed to be here Mr. Fly, you're supposed to be outside, fly away fly."

Over 15-years ago, Debbie's husband died of cancer. She has been in and out of motels ever since. When Debbie and her son don't have the cash to stay somewhere, they live in a tent. Usually, they stay in the woods, but sometimes under bridges.

"When someone has cancer, the whole family and everyone who loves them does, too." - Terri Clark (Terri Lynn Sauson).

Terri is an excellent country music entertainer who once lived in Murfreesboro, TN. She is originally from Canada, but now calls the South home. She got her start playing at the famous Tootsie's Orchid Lounge in Nashville after working hard and saving money to move to Middle Tennessee, because of her love for country music. She now lives in Nashville.

In late 2007, Clark received news that her mother was diagnosed with cancer. The tumor was removed, but Clark's mother died on April 4, 2010.

Drinking the day away, sometimes blogging

He quietly sits under a bridge drinking his days away. His fingers are badly stained by years of smoking, even burned black. He is 56-years old and sometimes when his beer gets hot, he pours it into a cup of ice. But, that is all you would know if you passed him by without talking, if you were observant.

I find it fascinating that John has the creative enthusiasm to operate a blog site that he updated daily, until his phone recently broke. Sometimes, he will venture into the library to update his posts, other times he relaxes with other homeless friends he lives with.

John’s blog is a mixture of sci-fi with an added touch of small reality throughout his posts. In one post he wrote, “I spent most of my life moving around with a back-pack on and sometimes I read a text-book for weeks wondering about the inventors that had left their thoughts behind.” He also talks about bug bites, describing them with the mathematical term of "asymptotic." He said the bites he received at the age of 14 were in the shape of a penis. Yes, you read that correctly. He has a sense of humor, a very interesting sense of humor I might add.

After a few laughs about his blog, he talked about the death of his mother in Ithaca, New York where he grew up. He described the city as a place where geniuses are on every corner. His mother was struck by a truck and killed in the city that was founded in 1790. His thoughts on geniuses made sense, considering Cornell University is in Ithaca. He told me he came to Murfreesboro over 13-years ago because his sister was killed in an automobile accident. He never left after the funeral.

“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.” ― Edgar Allan Poe

Daughters, a brush of gold

“Years rolled on again, and Wendy had a daughter. This ought not to be written in ink but in a golden splash.” ― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

The loss of a child, struck by a truck, pushed off a cliff

In the mid 1990's, she was struck by a truck in Texas. Several years later, her newborn daughter died at just five months old. Last year, she was pushed off a cliff in Nashville and spent well over a month in Vanderbilt. She survived all of that and the one thing she brings up time and time again, is the death of her five month old child. 

Today, Dawn lives under a bridge. She can barely walk more than 100-feet, but somehow makes it down the steep embankment each evening before falling asleep alongside a creek in Nashville. 

In November, Dawn will turn 49

Henry David Thoreau wrote, "What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us." Dawn has much more to conquer. Her entire life is ahead of her. 

Living Life

"What a wee little part of a person's life are his acts and his words! His real life is led in his head, and is known to none but himself." - Mark Twain

Therapeutic Cat Petting Station

So I was at the Therapeutic Cat Petting Station the other day and I noticed the therapist had bandages all over his hands. So, I asked… “What happened to your hands?” He snippily responded with a snarl, “I don’t have to tell you!” I went along with his anger and said, “No, you don’t, but I was curious.” He then turned around facing the window as a way of ignoring me. When he turned, I noticed the back of his cat sign stated, “Ther-apeutic Dog Petting Station.” My only thought as I walked away… Did the dog bite your hand?

I don’t run across many who are angry with the world, but I may have this one time.

“Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” - Buddha

I met Mick Jagger... Sort of

The conversation started, “Man, you look like Mick Jagger from the Rolling Stones,” I said with a laugh. “[Laughter] Man, I get that all the time,” he told me. I pulled out the camera and the dancing and posing began. “Wait, is this right, I don’t really know how to dance like Jagger,” he said while laughing.

He then told me about his medical struggles. "I had a heart attack a couple of years ago and they put this vein here [pointing to his chest and then arm], and then a couple of months ago they put in a stint," he said. It was as if he were describing battle wounds of a hard life, talking with a smile that he was still able to stand before me.

"Check this out," he then pulled his pants down. I said, "Wait, where is this going... I don't... No..." I breathed a gasp of relief as he just wanted to show me his American Flag bathing suit that matched his American Flag and Eagle shirt.

Later that evening, myself and a couple of friends drove him to the gas station to get some ice and before he got out of the truck, he made a special effort to pat each of us on the shoulder and say thank you. “God Bless You,” he said as he hopped out of the truck.

"It's all right letting yourself go, as long as you can get yourself back." - Mick Jagger

I changed my life

I took the photo and had a brief conversation… minutes later he searched me out in downtown Nashville to tell me one thing that he felt was important to him that he wanted me to know. He said, “I changed my life, I don’t drink like I use to – that’s not me anymore.” He smiled and I quietly put my hand on his shoulder and said, “That’s a big accomplishment, you are doing good – I’m glad to hear that.” He said, “I may be homeless, but I try to do what’s right.” He shook my hand and walked away with what looked to resemble happiness. 

Street Photography

How would you define "Street Photography?" One photographer may have a different definition than you. I may have a different definition than that photographer. My thought... It freezes a microsecond of a human life. It is time frozen in that instant. 

If you look for a definition on Wikipedia, you will find this: "Street photography is photography that features the human condition within public places. Street photography does not necessitate the presence of a street or even the urban environment."

“There are no rules for good photographs, there are only good photographs.” ― Ansel Adams