The last 24 hours were a cycle of extremes. Traci and I experienced both best and worst cases situations related to being in this Magdalene’s Mafia. It’s the streets. It’s intense either way and that’s the natural flow.
Monday was a boon of blessings. I had 2 sweet ladies fill my van to the doors with a household for a young couple clawing their way up the ladder and up off the streets and they are released from the prison of addiction.
The building is romantic in a historical, old brick way. The neighborhood was historical and beautiful. I was so happy for them to live in such a peaceful area. Their apartment was on the second floor. Traci and I just kept binging load after load to them on the landing. Their gratitude filled the entire stairwell. Aaron kept repeating, “You are angels, just angels. I can’t believe this is happening for us.”
Kelly’s eyes were huge. She saw an air fryer, pots, pans, food, dishes, a bed, bedding, fans, towels, dish drainers, and more come pouring out of Maggie our beloved van. I didn’t even tell you about the torrential thunderstorm that our beloved van traversed with valor. Maggie was on a mission from God. That van is a powerhouse of mercy.
After everything was upstairs, Traci got to come up for the official tour. It was tiny but clean and full of historic character. The four of us discussed the feeling of accomplishment that comes with defeating your demons. Aaron told me horror stories of things he had seen in the darkest holes of Detroit. Images that are scars in my mind and I wasn’t even there to see it.
“It was the absolute lack of respect for human life that some of these people had. We had to get out. I couldn’t become one of them. It was powerful some of the things God exposed me to just to get my attention.”
I felt that.
At the time, he didn’t believe in a Christian God, but his girlfriend Kelly did.
“He would tell me stories about his polytheistic pagan beliefs. I would laugh to myself and keep praying for him.” She has a great giggly laugh.
Aaron talked about this man that would approach him when he was outside begging. The man would always offer to help him. He was part of a church that could help him get clean.
“I know that God sends his angels to us all the time. All the time, he just kept casually pursuing me. Everytime, I would tell him that I wasn’t ready. He wasn’t able to help me, I told him. Then one day, I felt it. I couldn’t take this anymore. And I felt strongly the presence of a God I didn’t even like. I rejected him every way I could. But God didn’t let go. He still loved me. And I told that man finally, that I was ready.”
Then they did the work. They kept doing the next right thing. Just because you don’t believe in God, doesn’t mean God doesn’t believe in you.
Traci and I reveled in knowing that we aren’t out here in vain. Real people can really make it. A little love and hope and we get success stories. We are not just a hospice on wheels, dang it.
The next morning, Traci and I woke up and started preparing for Tuesday Night Outreach. This time, we had a giant lumberjack of a nurse come out with us. Our lead for the night asked me if that filled my criteria. He most definitely was the presence we needed.
We spent time on the east side of Detroit first. That was fun. We haven’t been in those creepy corners for over a year. Our first stop was at a dilapidated hotel. The people came out from the wooded alley behind it. As we were feeding people a man pulled up in a vehicle and asked Traci about donating to us. She grabbed me, and I dealt with it.
He was a veteran who was recently off the streets. He was severely underweight still, so the VA gave him 12 cases of Enfamil a week that he can’t realistically drink it all. He asked if we could use them, and heck yeah, we could. I talked to him for a few more minutes. He told me the story of how he was living in his car, then he got a job working on a house and part of the payment is a place to live in the house.
He also told me of a time when he was still a soldier in the Marines.
He started be saying, “I didn’t always used to be like this. I used to have plenty of money. One time, there was a guy I knew, and he said that he needed ninety-nine dollars for a new suit. He had an interview the next day, and it was crucial that he made a good impression. So, I told him that if he does that, it will look like a cheap ninety-nine-dollar suit. I’m going to take you out and buy you the right thing. And that’s what I did. We went to a suit store, and I bought him a nice-looking suit. I never thought about it again. I never saw the guy again until about 10 years later. And he says, ‘Don’t you remember me? You bought me this suit. I’m wearing it right now. Because of that nice suit, I did get that job. The job came with its own apartment and a company vehicle. You changed my life.’”
“I mean, you never know what just being nice to someone can do for them in the long run.”
I saw one of my favorite ladies. Traci rushed around the van feeding homeless men and women while they dug through bins of clothes. I saw my girl walk up and we hugged and talked for a while. I sat down on the grass next to her and we talked about where she was on her journey. She showed me this beautiful star carved out of an agate stone. She read to me the meaning of the stone off the card that came with it. She told me that she bought it for her daughter for her thirteenth birthday. I told her it was perfect.
She replied, “This is what I was able to use my money for today instead of buying drugs.”
We talked about the struggle of not having any bottom teeth, only upper dentures. She got hit by a car at an intersection earlier that day. The car never even stopped to see if she was okay. She has a line on an apartment though. She’s working with an agency so she’s going to be free from the street prisons, too.
I talked about my little job. I told her about how I was too messed up to hold down a job for quite some time. But I got better, a little at a time. Then I got a part-time job at a gas station. I found out I liked it, and I was good at it. Now, I’m a manager and I’m going to get health insurance and paid vacations. She said that sounded like something she could do, too. Then I remembered some wise words that my dearest friend Sue Corwin says.
“You only have to do the next right thing.”
My girl says that is her new mantra. I signed a copy of my book for her and gave her a journal, flashlight pen, and a deck of cards that Heather McDonald gave me when she came over to help make sandwiches that afternoon.
The sun was snuggling down behind the bridges. It was time for her to go back to a safe spot for the night. We hugged it out. I hope she gets her place to live soon.
After all the people were attended to, the teams conferred regarding our next step. That’s when I found out Shelby died.
Remember my last report? At our last stop of the night there was a group of people we knew and a couple of their children. The old Mama Bear: it was her daughter. She died of an overdose within 12 hours of us seeing her. And Traci said, “Sometimes we are just a hospice. We keep people comfortable and loved until they inevitably will pass away.”
We saw one last girl before I was ready to come home. I saw the Girl Wo Always Reads!
“I have something for you, sweetie!” I yelled from the van.
“Is it your book?” she threw back at me.
“Yes!” I laughed.
I signed a copy and passed it out the window. Traffic made it dangerous for me to get out. She’s getting a place to live, too! She’s getting off the street. She’s getting her life and herself back. Her boyfriend has starting abusing her physically. She’s getting rid of him, too. Too bad. He seemed like a nice guy. At least she’s being smart. My clever ladies.
It took me a while to process before I could put all these experiences into words. I saw the best- and worst-case scenarios. Is it worth it? What do I do about it? I’ll do the next right thing.
Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.
Amen.
