I had to get my post from yesterday out about the nameless homeless woman I spoke to before I wrote about Don. Don is a homeless guy that hangs out in the park near my office that I meditate at most days. I had spoken to a few other homeless people after my first encounter with the nameless woman. Most were awkward and not very fruitful in finding a connection. Some of the people were quite insane, not in a dangerous way but certainly in a way that hinders a deep and meaningful conversation. Then I happened upon Don.
I had observed Don several times in the park as I would sit and meditate. He looked like an older guy, with gray hair and a bushy gray beard. He was certainly homeless with the required shopping cart full of his possessions, but he looked well kept. He did not look to be filthy and dressed like a normal older guy of meager means. Don would also just sit at the park like me. He seemed to just enjoy being there. Many people would pass Don, but I never once saw him ask for a handout or anything. He did greet a few people kindly, but it never looked like the beginning of the normal routine with some people where "hello" quickly turns into "can you spare some change". Don just wanted to offer a sincere greeting to a passersby. Don seemed to me to be the very model of a Steinbeck tramp.
After observing Don a few times and sharing the park with him, I decided to go over and say hello. Don was very friendly and I asked him if he minded if I sat down with him for a chat. He said sure and looked to be grateful for the company. As before, I did not tell Don I was a policeman because that always changes the dynamic of the conversation. We talked about simple things and I asked him questions about his life. I did not want this to be an interview, but just a conversation where you get to know some things about a person.
Don seemed to be completely mentally sound and was not drunk or high on anything. He said he is 57 years old. I asked him where he usually stays and he told me he has a good overhang he sleeps at. I asked him how long he had been on the streets. He told me since 1982. I exclaimed that this was quite a long time. He says the only time since 1982 he has not been a tramp what when he did ten years in prison for a stolen car and weapons charge. This actually blew my mind. Don seemed like a good guy. I would love to know the story behind that but I did not press. I was content to know the Don sitting beside me now, not the Don that got himself locked up in prison. I asked Don what had caused him to be homeless. He told me nothing caused him to, he just decided this was the life he wanted. He said that he enjoyed the freedom. He had no wife or kids. He worked when he needed or wanted to work. He seemed genuinely happy with his life. There was no woe is me story. No destructive drug use, no mental illness, just a guy that wanted to live his own life his own way. I asked Don if he had it to do over again, what would he choose? Would he chose a life like mine with a good career, steady pay, a good home and a son or would he live his life as it is now. He said without a moment of hesitation that he would be who he is now. He liked what and who his was. He enjoyed the absolute freedom to be his own man, and he seemed to be getting by just fine.He asked me what kind of work I did and I told him. He was only a little surprised because I had already spent time showing him that I was genuine and compassionate and was not defined by my career. We chatted a bit more in a way similar to how you would chat with a neighbor. Small talk with just enough familiarity and connection to make the chat worthwhile. We talked until I told him I should probably get back to my office. He joked that they might start looking for me if I don't. As I stood to go, I reached into my pocket and handed him a five dollar bill. Don had not asked for or expected this. I told him to go have a nice lunch somewhere and he thanked me with genuine gratitude. A five means almost nothing to me, but Don could enjoy a nice burger or something and reflect on the kindness of a stranger as he ate it.
I see Don every few days and always go over to say hello to him. Sometimes I give him a few bucks if I have it on me, sometimes I don't. I ask how he is doing and make sure he is staying warm and dry somewhere. He assures me his two sleeping bags are quite cozy. He asks me about my work and when we are going to move into the new building across the street. It is always a good conversation both directions and well worth the time. He never expects money but seems to really enjoy the chat. He is a human being and a man, and I imagine few people talk to him as an equal. I like to think that by chatting with my friend Don, we both gain something meaningful. I get to gain perspective on those much different from me and show compassion. Don gets to feel like a neighbor and maybe get a few bucks to spend on something.
Some may look at Don and be disgusted. Get a job, they may think. He is loafing on my tax dollars they may think. I think if the government can pay for all the ridiculous pork barrel politics or to fly IRS employees to Las Vegas for a week of "training", we can help Don along a bit with some warm soup and clothes from charity. I honestly envy Don. He was sure of what he wanted his life to be and was brave enough to take that leap of faith. He sticks with his decision and is OK with who he is. I envy his freedom and his willingness to walk his own path. Goodnight Don. Stay warm out there, you bindle bum.
Fantastic story.
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