Tonight was mayhem, tears, joy, celebration, madness, and peanut butter & jelly sandwiches sprinkled with pepper spray. That’s the best way I can describe it.
The first lady to approach us began trying to ask for some food, but by the time she got to “a hygiene kit”, she was weeping. I don’t know. I just need anything. Her clothes were tattered. She wore a tank top and too big sweatpants that were filthy and shredded. Her entire body was covered in a variety of wounds.
Traci went straight to work finding her a couple of complete outfits. She pulled a duffle bag out and began packing it. The girl cried again because she had no place to keep anything. It was an abandoned house that provided shelter for several people. One of the women came to the back of the car to ask Traci if she made sure that first girl got enough clothes. Traci told her what she said about not being able to have a space to keep anything. That seemed to upset the women.
“Hold on. She needs to have clothes. Poor thing needs clothes. She been through so much. She don’t know any better.”
Pepper spray saves lives.
All the time.
A tiny little woman ran down the alley. She reminded me of Cece, my Tiny One. (May God rest her sou). Her neck was bent forward and her shoulders pointed in. The abused child posture. We took care of her.
An elderly man came up and asked if I was the sort of nonprofit that offers bus passes. I pointed him towards the one that did.
Next thing I knew, a pretty young woman in baggy clothes yelled, “I could cry! I’m so glad I saw you! One day, when I am clean and sober, I can come help you ladies out.”
The first lady came over to thank me, but she just started weeping again. So, I held her close and told her I loved her. I rocked with her over the cracked sidewalk.
Other team says, Time to go.
From behind me I heard I high pitch scream, “Don’t leave! Don’t leave!”
I let them know we had one more.
She was hilarious. Everything that Traci gave her, she said, “Oh, f*** yes!”
Other team says, Time to go.
She insisted that she was done. I told her to tell him yourself. She boldly did.
When I went to give her a pepper spray, she was a having a conversation with the team about an appointment she needed to get to asap.
HIM: What are you doing on Friday?
HER: Being black.
HIM: Wish I was.
HER: You’d never run out of rhythm, and you’ll always have the blues.
Classic, girl.
We ran across a lot more people in percarious places along the way.
I saw my Angel baby! She was sad. She looked beat up from the inside out. I could see in her eyes that her soul badly wounded. A lot of people got let out of jail. She had an apartment for a short time. She’s back on the street and it’s not good. A lot of people have been released from jail. It’s made everyone act extra crazy. It’s been rough. She needed extra-long hugs, and affirmations. In the meantime, Traci is passing out clothes to everyone else.
A lot of hugs at the next stop. A lot of celebrations. Some friends used the time in jail to get sober, work within the system to get their life back on track. We celebrated her sobriety and her apartment! Her boyfriend was another longtime friend. A lot of people were out last night.
One person on my mind popped up. I missed my Miss GG. And we saw her! She looks great! She’s gained a lot of weight. She’s staying someplace new. It does my heart good.
The last stop was for a man who lived under a bridge with his dog. We left food for the dog, and food and hygiene for his person.
I had enough pepper spray for every female we served.
Mayhem, tears, joy, celebration, madness, and peanut butter & jelly sandwiches sprinkled with pepper spray.
Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.
Amen.
