It was his birthday

“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 laughed

He would walk about 10 steps and then stop to catch his breath. Ten more steps and a local resident stopped to ask if he was okay. He responded and then continued is his journey a mere three blocks to get a free bagged lunch. I ran across him in Indianapolis, Indiana.

He told me that his lungs were bad and it was his fault. A few years back he inhaled Freon while working on an old refrigerator. He said that it ruined his lungs.

I snapped the photo and he asked, “Did you get a picture of my one good tooth [laughing]?” I smiled, “Got it.” He then went into detail about how bad teeth run in his family, “That one is holding on,” he said with a grin.

“I’m homeless, but I will soon get an apartment - I’m gonna’ get that all decorated and then check into the hospital,” he said. He then told me that he can’t get a lung transplant because that is for millionaires and he wants to hold onto his millions, again laughing.

As crazy as it may sound, he seemed happy and in good spirits. Charlie Chaplin once stated, “A day without laughter is a day wasted.”

Haircuts for those who cannot afford one

What a great day. We hit the streets, the woods and even under the bridges to give free haircuts to those without a home in Nashville.

I asked one fella if he wanted a haircut and he responded, "I don't have any money." I smiled and said, "It's free, we are here for you." He was so excited.

We value little things like haircuts that some of us get weekly. However, some of the folks we met have not had a haircut in 8-months or longer.

One of the most common things stated after the cuts, "Man, I feel so much better."

In this photo Brittney Pelham is cutting Joe's hair. Joe weights less than 110 pounds as he is currently battling liver and pancreas problems. His body is literally wasting away. His only medication includes Zantac and Phenergan to control stomach pain and to help keep his food down.

Just a conversation, please?

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.”

Popeye Club

He was sitting on the steps next to the Municipal Auditorium shortly after sunset waiting on a bus to Madison. As he spoke he told me he once had cancer in his arm. Part of his elbow was removed due to the cancer. He then took a smoke and looked into the distance as if he could see himself as a child. That is when his best memorable moment as a child unfolded, smoke after smoke. 

“My best memory ever was when I was on TV, I was 8 and Nashville had the Popeye Club,” he said. I later learned the Popeye Club met in the old Paramount Theater. A man named Bob Luck played an organ in the theater and the organ raised from the ground to stage level. “I remember Bob Lobertini was called Captain Bob,” he said with a smile. Lobertini worked at WLAC – TV in Nashville at the time. He then stated, “Lobertini was the weather guy on the TV station.” 

Channel 5 in Nashville first came on the air in 1954 as WLAC – TV. The station was owned by the Life and Casualty Insurance Company which is where the L&C tower is today in Nashville. In 1975 the television station was sold and it went on to become WTVF, News Channel 5. 

“The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.”
-Cesare Pavese

Wicked Clowns

He was homeless, but now living in a small home with about four other people. He told me, “I’m part of the Wicked Clowns… We are like a bunch of hippies, but we are violent. We are not afraid to use weapons.”

As we talked more he told me, “I did the tattoo myself [referring to his face].” He told me he used a mirror to do the ink on his face that is "War Paint." He then pulled up his shirt and showed me a tattoo of a clown holding a bloody butcher knife. Under the clown were the words, “NEVER DIE ALONE.” “I did all my tattoos myself except for the one on my back,” he said. Across his stomach was the word “PSYCHO.” 

Hippie Hill in Tennessee

I shot this at Hippie Hill in 2013. Still one of my favorite photos. Reminds me of something in 1970's. Love it.

"Constantly choosing the lesser of two evils is still choosing evil." 
- Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead

Food for thought

Food for thought: Some would drive by and simply throw food or a bottle of water at his feet, sometimes hitting his leg. He was sound asleep when I saw him. I wondered how he felt that no one had the courage to stop and hand him food like a human being?

Perhaps his misspelled sign gives a glimpse into his life? The word "Work" was spelled "Werk" and the word "Dollars" was spelled "Dollors." I could only imagine that he never received the help he needed as a child in school and likely grew up with an undiagnosed learning disability and possibly a mental illness. 

I did not wake him in fear this was the only sleep he received all day, with his head on the curb of a parking lot near a busy intersection. 

George Orwell once wrote in Down and Out in Paris and London, “It is fatal to look hungry. It makes people want to kick you.” I think this photo rings true to that statement based on the fact that no one gave this man any respect. 

Starving for food

After he finished begging for money while sitting next to a McDonald’s exit it started to rain. So, he walked across the street and sat under a gas pump awning at a small convenient store. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, he was almost curled up in a ball. People dressed in their Sunday best walked past him without ever glancing down, even stepping around him as if he were a piece of trash they wanted to avoid to keep their neatly polished shoes clean.

I approached him and asked, “Are you hungry, would you like a doughnut from Dunkin Donuts [in the gas station] or would you like real food?” He carefully looked up almost startled, “Real food please.” I went inside and ordered a chicken salad sandwich on a croissant. I then grabbed a large bottle of water, a bag of chips and a Little Debbie snack for desert. I placed it by his side and he thanked me while putting the bag of chips inside the brown paper bag that the sandwich came in. He then scurried across the street to find a quiet and out of the way spot to eat.

I hate to compare a man to an animal, but have you ever noticed what happens when you give a dog a piece of meat or a bone? The dog quickly carries the item to a distant location to begin its feast. The animal moves away from the pack in order to protect and hide its food. That is exactly what occurred in this situation. It was sad to watch him quickly move away as if he was afraid someone would take his meal.  

Before I left I asked, “How old are you?” He told me, “54.”

“Those who are happiest are those who do the most for others.” ― Booker T. Washington, Up from Slavery

Fredrick Hill, U.S. Air Force

You may have seen this man sitting on the side of the road, his name is Fredrick Reed. He is from Murfreesboro, but currently lives in his small Ford Ranger in an industrial area of Nashville. He served in the U.S. Air Force during the 1960’s. He was a Flight Engineer on a 124 Globemaster airplane.

In the 1950’s and 60’s the Globemaster was nicknamed “Old Shaky” due to its massive size that shook more often than not when loaded with tanks or bulldozers that could fit inside the plane without being disassembled first. The planes were retired in 1974.

As I was talking to Mr. Reed, a Metro Police car drove by with sirens blaring and lights flashing. He stopped in mid-sentence, “Do you mind if we pause, I say a prayer every time I see a first responder.” He then prayed for the officer’s safety. When he was finished he said, “I wish everyone would pray for first responders when they see them headed to a call.”

I asked Reed, “How long have you been sober,” while pointing at his sign? He told me that he has been sober for 7-months, I got to where I HATED alcohol and hated drinking." . “Do you have any kids,” I asked? “I sure do - two daughters,” he told me with a smile. However, Reed said he has not talked to them in about two years suggesting that he has not been the best dad. He told me he would like to mend the relationship, but thinks his daughters don’t really know him anymore. 

"To be helpful is our only aim." AA, 2001, p. 89

Imagine a Porsche 911 dealer closing and leaving this behind

Imagine finding an old Porsche dealership that closed down years ago and inside you find a wide body 911 C4S with tires that are over a foot wide... waiting for your arrival and begging to be driven. Keys inside.

"I couldn't find the sports car of my dreams, so I built it myself." - Ferdinand Porsche ‪#‎Porsche‬ ‪#‎Fuji‬

He had a broken hip

He was walking towards me when I stopped to ask, “Want a bottle of water?” He told me, “Naaah, I’m headed to the hospital.” I asked if I could give him a ride and he pointed towards Nashville General, “It’s right over there – the doctor said I should walk to stretch my hip out, I broke it.”

He later went on to explain that he broke it by getting his foot tangled in a wire that was on the ground, “It got all tangled up and I fell on my hip.”

I asked, “So how old are you if you don’t mind me asking?” He looked at me and said, “60.”

“The older I grow, the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom.” ― H.L. Mencken

"I'm a Dirty Kid"

“Hey man, you’re going to Nashville,” he asked as he helped to unload a few cases of water and Gatorade from my truck while under a bridge in Murfreesboro. “Can I hitch a ride,” while looking over at my homeless friend Kevin? “I looked to Kevin for his approving nod, “I guess,” I said, “But, we have several stops to make in Murfreesboro and Nashville to hand out water.”

After I was finished unloading at stop number one he hopped in the passenger side and with a handshake he said, “I’m David.” We then stopped to see Red, Beverly and Hal to drop off more water, Gatorade and chips. Then, we were Nashville bound. As we neared Interstate 24 he told me that he has been in Murfreesboro for about one week.

“I think meth is safer than heroin,” he told me while showing me scars from shooting up. “I don’t do either one anymore though,” he said while gazing at the road in front of us. Every once in a while he would belt out a song or a rap and then laugh. “I’ve been to 14 states so far, I wanna’ hit at least 48,” he told me. “

Are you 420 friendly,” he asked. I jokingly told him, “As long as it’s not in my truck.” We then talked about alcohol and we both agreed that alcohol contributes to more pain, heartache and death than marijuana ever has, in our opinion. I asked, “Have you ever smoked synthetic marijuana?” He told me, “I have.” He then recited some of the ingredients that are used to make it even acknowledging the chemical compounds that bind the chemical together. I then told him how dangerous the fake weed is on most people. He smiled, “I think Dennis Leary was right in stating that different drugs react differently on the user, I’ve never had adverse reactions.”  Although, I think he was talking about Timothy Leary who was known for advocating psychedelic drugs

I asked him why he was homeless and he dived into his years spent at over 30-foster care homes and programs. “They say I have PTSD and a long list of other issues, but I don’t buy into it.” He later said the PTSD was from the suicide of his step father. He did not fully elaborate on the other problems that may exist, but did talk about finding peace and a future soulmate. “I’ve met three soulmates, one died,” he said. I asked what happened and he told me that it was a heroin overdose and he was with her when it occurred.

When we got to Nashville he was excited to help hand out water and a variety of other drinks and chips. He loved it and called the homeless men and women he met “friend.” He told me that doing this made him feel good as he has done so much “bad” in his life. “I have made tons of bad decisions,” he told me.  I reassured him it was okay, we all make bad decisions all the time and we will continue to do so. I don’t know if he felt reassured by that or not?

David spoke intelligently about living on the street and how he was not concerned that he was in Nashville without a place to stay or even a change of clothes. “These jeans have been in so many creeks and rivers I lost count,” he said with a laugh. He asked if there were other "Dirty Kids" in Nashville. David said that "Dirty Kids" is a word for young travelers who train hop and move from place to place as he does. 

Before I dropped him off on Broadway in Nashville he told me his mother’s name… Amanda Leigh Rice Bishop Calvert. He does not know where she is today.

The road we travel is what makes us who we are today. 

"My mother said to me, 'If you are a soldier, you will become a general. If you are a monk, you will become the Pope.' Instead, I was a painter, and became Picasso." - Pablo Picasso

Mr. Henson, without his boys or his wife

The lives of so many who live on the street is so unbearably and unapologetically sad from the outside looking in.

Today, I met Mr. Henson. His hair was salt and pepper and his face reminded me of someone I once saw on reruns of the old western show Bonanza. He had lines that showed his age and also showed his days in the sun spent at the lake with his family. “My son drowned in the lake back home in Michigan, he was only 15,” he said in a whisper. I had to lean in close to grasp his words as he spoke to the tune of a light breeze. “I had two boys, the other died at birth,” he told me while looking across a busy gas station parking lot in Nashville. His words grew sadder as he continued, “My wife died of cancer in 2008, I loved her,” he said with a smile looking towards the sky.

I asked him what landed him in Nashville considering his family was originally from Michigan. Without words he held his left hand above his shoulder with his right hand at his waist while strumming a guitar that was not there. “I played all the time, so I thought I’d come here,” he said with a huge smile and a slight laugh. “My guitar was stolen, you can’t have anything on the streets of Nashville,” he said as he talked about his life as a homeless man without a wife or his sons by his side.

If his two boys were still alive today, they would now be 35. Mr. Henson was only 24 when his wife gave birth to the boys. This October, he will turn 59 without anyone around to say the words some of us dread to hear, “Happy Birthday.”

Before I left I asked, “If you had a guitar could you still play it?” He looked at me making eye contact, “I love music, I will always be able to play.”

"Music is the divine way to tell beautiful, poetic things to the heart." - Pablo Casals

Giving vaccinations to animals in need

I had the privilege of showing Dr. Kathryn Mcpherson (Veterinarian) and Amanda Oliver (Director of the Beesley Animal Foundation) around so that they could visit with the homeless and vaccinate their beloved animals. Otherwise, these dogs and cats would possibly go undeserved as most homeless can not afford basic rabies shots.

In this photo, this young lady (right) became homeless on the night of her high school prom. She was 18 and her mother died of cancer. From that night on, she had no where to go but the streets. Her father died of cancer in 1994 and her mother passed away in 1997. 

Just Hal and his blind friend

This is Hal. He lives in a field that also has a small rock quarry in it that is seldom used. Hal lives under an old trailer that he lacks the keys to actually get into the trailer. His friend... a small dog named Bear. The dog is blind, but makes for a great companion to battle lonely nights. 

"Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty." Mother Teresa 

She moved to the hills of Tennessee to better cope with Lupus symptoms

She somehow found her way to Hippie Hill through the dips and valleys of life. I asked, “What brought you to Tennessee?” She said that she was battling Lupus and her hands and feet often hurt while living up north. “My doctor drew a line on a map and said if you live anywhere here, you will have better results and feel better while battling Lupus,” she told me… “So we came here.”

With her camper in tow and with her son by her side side (he is in his twenties), she gathered her belongings and her beloved dogs and made it to Hippie Hill, where she can be herself and relax.

With Lupus joint pain is common. Warmer climates help to alleviate the pain. Fatigue, headaches, mouth ulcers, etc. are all things that those with Lupus are up against. To make some of those symptoms, relocating is worth a move. The cause of Lupus is still not known. Some doctors suggest you are genetically pre-disposed to getting it while some say that something in the environment triggers the problem. Lupus is not contagious and it is not a form of cancer.

“Every day holds the possibility of a miracle.” --  Author Unknown

The homeless traveler

Our conversation was brief, but she has been homeless on and off for years. She travels the South with no agenda or set destination in mind. I met her in Nashville, Tennessee. 

Robert Frost said it best: 

“The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”