My experiences with the homeless - Democratic Underground

NightTrain

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Mon Nov-24-03 10:45 PM
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My experiences with the homeless

Edited on Mon Nov-24-03 10:57 PM by NightTrain

I came of age during the '70s and '80s, first in rural Storrs, Connecticut, and later in the Hartford suburb of Manchester. I was barely aware of the homeless population until I was in my early 20s and started doing office work as a temporary worker in downtown Hartford.

Though some (if not all) of you may find this hard to believe, I spent almost the first 23 years of my life convinced that I was a conservative! Mind you, I never voted Republican because I come from a family with strong ties to organized labor. But their union ties notwithstanding, my relatives were your typical working-class conmservatives, i.e. they had that mindset because they pretty much didn't know any better.

It was seeing all those homeless people in a comparatively small city like Hartford that started me questioning the hard-hearted conservatism under which I had been raised. I knew something was up as I sat at the bus stop late one afternoon next to a pair of well-dressed young women, only to have several grungy homeless people walk by us.

The first Yupette turned to her friend and asked, "God, where do those people come from?"

"I don't know," replied the other, "but I wish they'd go away."

"Really," said Yupette #1. "What do we pay the cops for, anyway?"

I felt irritated over what I had just heard but could not for the life of me figure out why.

Over the next several years of working in downtown Hartford, I saw ever-increasing numbers of homeless people, some of whom approached me for financial help. Most of the time I'd slip them a buck or, if I was short of cash, would apologetically tell them so.

Unfortunately, there was that one homeless man who caught me in a bad mood, causing me to snarl, "Piss off, I'm busy!" To which he replied, and justifiably so, "Well fuck you, you cocksucker!" To this day, I feel badly about my snap-angry reaction to that man's approach and would like to tell him so.

Then there was Dutch, a 50-something man who approached me in the parking lot of my bank and asked if he could wash my windows for a couple of bucks. Since my car windows actually were in need of a good cleaning, I told him yes.

As Dutch did his thing with his bottle of Windex and roll of paper towels, we got to talking. I can't remember too, too much of what we said to each other, but I do recall Dutch striking me as an arcitulate, intelligent man. I wanted to ask him how in god's name he had ended up in such a situation, but wasn't sure I really wanted him to answer.

In any event, when Dutch was finished cleaning my windshield (and he did an excellent job, BTW), I slipped him a ten dollar bill. He said that it wasn't necessary, but I insisted that Dutch take the money.

"I couldn't do this every week," I said, "but I can afford it now, and I want to do this for you."

I never saw Dutch again but still think about him a lot.

Sorry if I rambled on, but once I started, it was hard to stop!