Last night’s outreach was dedicated to my recently departed ex, Cecil Johnson. He had been living in a homeless shelter in Indiana for the past couple of years. No one I knew was aware of that. He had severe liver damage, and that is what he finally succumbed to. My dear friend of decades, Julie Miller, who runs the Lansing branch of Punks With Lunch, knew Cecil in his glory days as well. She said that she hoped someone like us was out there to give him a sandwich from time to time. Cecil’s addiction destroyed our relationship. It eventually destroyed him too, but he was still a human being.
Now you are connected to this, as well.
The theme for last night’s street outreach was- Plot Twists!
My brakes and rotors are still waiting to be repaired. Still no vehicle for outreach. I was dealing with work and Cecil’s death at the same time all weekend and didn’t line up an alternative vehicle. I thought all was lost. Traci and Lilli insisted we could pull it off in Traci’s little matchbox car. She drives a Chevy Spark for goodness sake. Also, Lilli works at Little Caesars in Brighton now, and she found a way to donate 40 pizzas. I can’t let it go to waste. Allyn dropped off amazing coats and hats and gloves (and cookies!). And Alicia sent me a package of gloves everyone desperately needs. It’s going to stay below freezing for a few days. I couldn’t bear to hear the list of people we would lose to exposure by the next time I came back to Detroit. So, we made it happen.
Lilli is amazing. She made all those pizzas. She packed up the car with everything somehow. Another example of loaves and fishes. I don’t know how she did it! She impresses me.
We made it down there packed with what we could fit.
The first stop was a huge old, abandoned factory by the train yard. I climbed through there a couple of times with Cecelia. This time, it was dark. We needed flashlights to find our way through. We found forts and tents in various corners. I climbed up wooden ladders, pallets, and over large holes to get to an opening on the roof. I love climbing. I love climbing on tops of buildings. We were able to leave some food and blankets for the people who were too shy to come out and see us. It’s a very private group who stay in there. They abhor the attention.
Next stop, Ms. GG’s abando-minium. There are a lot of people in that one house. One of them is a lady, Ms. GG’s age. She told me that the next day, today, she will get her apartment! She was so thrilled and proud to have her own door and key. You can do anything for yourself if you have a door and a key.
There was a man there who was very tall and slender; gratefully accepting socks, gloves, a hat and food. As he was going through the coats there was a red puffy jacket. It was super warm. It was a 2XL so it fit him all the way down his arms and covered his bum. The other folks around him cheered and congratulated him on such a clever find.
It was a motley crew of people rummaging joyfully through what little we had. I hope Cecil had a warm coat to wear. One old lady who we helped had a large bag of clothes, blankets, food, etc., that she was having a hard time carrying. She yelled at a young man riding by on his bike.
“Get off that bike, boy! Come help an old woman carry some stuff!”
And he did. He jumped off his bike and took her garbage bag into the house for her. Before she left, that same old, black, toothless, bald woman told me, “I love you girl! Gimme some dap!”
“You want what?” I replied.
Then she held her fist out to me, like a fist bump. “Gimme some dap, girl!”
“Ah!” I said. “You want bones!” Then I held up my fist and we had our fist bump moment and laughed.
We went down a few more alleys looking to see if we could find anyone we knew. All we found was a gray and white kitten. We got to at least feed her.
Then we saw our Crazy P. I swear she might not even be 4 feet tall, but you could hear her holler! I couldn’t understand a single word of it, but she was mad about something. One guy from the medical team and I know her best. We kept trying to get her to calm down, take food, take a few bucks, anything. But she just kept hollering and screaming incoherently. So, I prayed for her at least 10 times.
A man who must have been almost seven feet tall was walking down the street with his little white pit pull puppy. He had a long, puffy, white coat, and long, black, neatly dreaded hair.
I asked him if I could pet his cute puppy. The guy was super sweet and friendly. He let me try to pet her. She feared everyone and everything. What an ironic pair!
Our last stop of the night was to see my Little Red-Haired Girl. She was busy working, as always. We were able to give her the last of our food, some gloves and handwarmers. Most importantly, we shared unconditional love with her. She had a beautiful smile for us in return.
I couldn’t save Cecil. I can’t save anyone. When Cecil and I were good together, it was some of the most magical in love times of my life. I know it was for him, too. We gave each other warm memories. The bad was really bad. I don’t have nightmares anymore, just wise experiences. Remember my Writer Dude? He died of the exact same thing in the exact same way as Cecil did.
I just wanted Cecil, and everyone else I see and try to help on Tuesday night to know- I even if I can’t fix what’s wrong, in the moments we have together, you are truly and genuinely loved. That’s what I can give.
Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.
Amen.
#magdalenesmission #peaceloveandhygiene
