This report is about the 2 people Traci and I served yesterday. With all due respect to their privacy, I’m still not going to sugar-coat it. This is who we serve:
They are an adorable married couple who have been together for nearly two decades. They came here from another state to be near their family. After a series of unfortunate events, they were left with nothing but the streets. Like my girl said, “The real gate-way drug is the trauma that happens to make you think you need that stuff.”
Or, as her husband put it, “Heroin was bad, but we quit that. After the relapse, now there’s this fentanyl crap in everything and you’ll die before you get it out of your system.”
When they got together, they built a successful family, and a pretty little all-American life. The house, the cars, the kids, all of it is gone now.
The first thing she wanted me to see was how well her face had healed. The last time I had contact with her husband, he called me in the middle of the night. He told me that his wife was ‘working’. She was attacked with a knife. The man told her he was going to kill her and throw away her body. She cleverly escaped the trunk of his car (somehow, thank you, Jesus) and made it back to him. “What do we do, Kayla? I can’t take her to the hospital!”
The stitches scars on her face reminded me of a rag doll. She is right. It did heal nicely. One can hardly see it.
They live in an abandoned property on the eastside of Detroit. They said that the neighbors have left them alone for over a year now. They keep the property clean, and don’t allow drug use in their den. He’s found a way to access electricity, and they bring water back in five-gallon buckets for drinking and cleaning.
It was a beautiful day. Every once in a while she would move herself backwards into the van. “I’m trying to not let them see me.” She said, “That guy is weird.”
The husband blocks her from view.
“Those are just customers. We don’t need to deal with them right now.”
We talked about all the people we knew from that area that we hadn’t seen in a couple of years. The list of names of people who have died was extensive. Just about everyone we knew from that house on the eastside we used to see every week is gone. Not all though. A few still survive.
I assumed overdoses, but the Wife claims it is the resurgence of AIDS. Too many girls aren’t using protection. The diseases spread like a wildfire.
Traci and I loaded them up with supplies. Shortly after I left, the husband thanked me for the feeling of clean socks. We got them plugged in with some people who can help them get their lives back again. They don’t give up on eachother. We won’t give up on them. They knew that finding that mangled up business card was going to turn their luck around. Here’s to hoping, my friends.
Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.
Amen.
Post-script: The Fort St. Church volunteers are nothing short of heroes behind the scenes.
Also, the basement we are in is also THE FIRST INDOOR BASKETBALL COURT IN THE UNITED STATES! Every week, I found out something historically amazing about this place! Beauty in every cobblestone. I choose to see it.
Tonight’s report is dedicated to Rodney, who always had a smile and a hug for me and Traci. To Chief, a veteran of the Vietnam War who begged for money while leaning on his crutches. He wore a size 10 ½ shoe over what was left of his feet. Prayers to Heaven for the old man who looked out for, and took care of Ms. P. This is dedicated to all my brothers and sisters who didn’t survive through February.
Hi! To all my beautiful friends on the street that read what I write about you, I love you.
Traci is still trying to recover from her flu, so she couldn’t make it out last night. I didn’t fly solo, though. The father of one of the other medical team volunteers rode with me. He was kind, yet also fearless and full of service in his heart. He’s so proud of the work his daughter does.
We saw a whole mix of people last night. I heard some pitiful stories, and a couple of hope filled ones, too.
We started off going to a few isolated spots. It was light outside for the first hour or so of outreach, so that was a bonus. The sun shone brightly to show me that it was as glad to have us back as we were to see it. While my volunteer and I waited for the medical team to come back, we served 4 more homeless people who wandered past us.
We went into a few different places. Some had people there, some didn’t. One place was an abandoned school that was perfectly hidden. There was only one broken window that we could enter the building by. We all crawled in and wandered through the building calling out our presence through the clean, empty hallways. Every clock was stopped, but at a different time. It was dark, but I could see into the different classrooms. Many rooms had the remnants of homeless people on the floor. Lots of blankets, piles of handwarmers, food wrappers, and random bottles. There was a book from Alcoholics Anonymous sitting on the window ledge. I hope they were reading it because there were liquor and beer bottles all over the place.
Next, we found some bridge people. They had a tent and propane. It was well hidden, but the cops kept finding their spot and taking their stuff down. So, they must start over somewhere else. They somehow don’t “disappear” just because they aren’t wanted. She was a kind, sweet lady. I heard her say she is 36 years old. Her husband is 41. They just want to survive.
This next part was THE craziest thing. We went to an abandoned building we have been to many times. This time, we noticed something was different. First, the area in front that used to be filled with trash was all cleaned up. Cool. Then, we noticed that the large hole in the side of the building where we used to enter was completely boarded over. Okay. Then, as we walked around, we noticed that everything, every opening, was boarded and sealed up.
Not cool. There is an old man who can’t walk that lives on the top floor of that building. One volunteer was frantic that he could still be in there. We found a loose opening and tore it open so that one person could go through and check it out. We had to be sure. The first thing he found was a dead dog. Our brave volunteer ventured in further on until he made it to the top floor.
Sure enough, the old man had been boarded up inside the building! The volunteer informed us of another opening. The rest of the volunteers trekked through the brambles to find that missed hole in the wall. We all climbed in and made our way through the graffiti covered building to bring food to the old man.
By the time I got there, I heard him telling the other volunteers about the housing resource caseworker. “List? I’ve been on that list for so long, I don’t even think about it. I used to look forward to them coming to put me someplace I could live, but that’s not happening. It’s better to pretend there is no list. Thank you guys, for coming to check on me. I appreciate it. God bless you folks for seeing me.”
He asked us to pray over him before we left. If you could, keep him in your prayers, too. One of the volunteers is going to address his case manager.
Eventually, we made it to the main strip where a lot of people I know are. Right away, ladies flagged down the van and were running up to see us. A pair of girls grabbed me, hugged me, and cried telling me how much they missed and loved me. They were so happy to be loved on. They were also starving hungry, desperate for hygiene items, and in need of a sleeping bag. I loaded up the hygiene kits into backpacks that I had already extra loaded with socks, handwarmers, emergency blankets, gloves, scarves, and more socks.
I must admit it. I have a special soft place in my heart for the street walking sex workers in Detroit. AKA victims of human trafficking, AKA prostitutes. These girls are relentless. They are always working. They are always in the thick of it. They have such a perilous job. They are the least judgmental to me. They are the realest of people. They subsist on the underbelly of humanity and still find time to laugh with me I asked them where they are staying. If they have a regular safe spot to sleep. They all said, no. They sleep when, where, or if they can. They all also were begging for mace. I haven’t had any in quite a while. I told them I would tell you that’s what they really need right now.
They also told me that the cops were arresting people for loitering and then serving 90 days jail. The plan is to remove the addicts from the areas so that the dealer will go away. We’ll see how that works out.
Another girl told me that a lot of the drug houses had been raided and taken out. That is good to have less drug dealers. But…
Unfortunately, drug houses will let pretty much anyone crash on the floor. I noticed that it has been common in the winter for a lot of these homeless girls to deal with living in one of those places just to get inside for a few months. Are they evil? Yes. Were they also warming stations? Uh, kind of. Weird, right?
That’s also how I found out about the 3 men who we’ve been taking care of for a few years now, who didn’t make it through the winter.
On a happy note! My Mama Bear is still clean, sober, and living on her own in an apartment! You have followed and supported that woman’s journey. How at first she had an apartment that a lot of the other sex workers, including her daughters, would find safety in. Then her husband died. Then she lost her apartment. Then she lost her will, and the addiction got hold of her. Then she lost her daughter to overdose. Then she looked just like a vapor of a woman. A faint impression where a whole woman once was. Then she wanted to be clean again. So, I prayed over her until we both felt our bodies levitate. We prayed our hearts raw.
Then she did it. She was saved. She got out! She lives; she doesn’t just barely exist. We never gave up on her. I know she wishes that her other daughter could join her in a safe and sober life. Until then, we’re both praying for her, and we won’t give up on her either.
Kayla & Traci grinning and bearing Detroit cold winter night
We survived the coldest night in 8 years! We survived, as well as every homeless person we could find last night. We literally drove from one end of Detroit to the other, and back again.
It was another week where the account was bare and all I had for food was peanut butter and jelly. Between the amount of donations that showed up on my doorstep, and what I collected from People’s Church it was enough to make me weep. A few people stepped up and sent some money to MagdalenesMission@Venmo. That was our gas money to get out there and back.
You people. Our people. People are good. We were created to be good, to love one another. We are all connected. Last night, you connected with people you will never meet, but you saved their lives with blankets, socks, handwarmers, cups, bread, and spare coats, hats, scarves and gloves.
By the time we left, we were packed from floor to roof with all the above. Every atom was imbibed with prayers of love.
Traci and I gave out our first blanket before we even made it to the church. A woman we recognized was standing at an intersection with her tiny cardboard sign. We grabbed a large comforter from behind my seat. I shoved it out the window at her and told her we would be back out later with the rest of the team. Her eyes got huge when she saw the blanket.
“Oh! Thank you! God bless you guys!”
“May God bless you, baby girl.”
Once we had the team together, we were on a fort finding mission. We drove down a hundred back alleys behind every type of building. We looked under bridges, and searched large, abandoned fields. It took nearly three hours in that deadly cold, but we gave away all the food, all the sleeping bags, blankets, and 3 tents.
The last swarm we had kept us outside of the vehicle for a while as we served more and more homeless who came out when they saw their friends coming back. I was blessed to be wearing leather with rabbit fur lined gloves. Even so, after fifteen minutes, my fingers were already frostbitten. One of the nurses came and took over food distribution.
It was a night we’ll never forget, but our journey did not end there. On the way home, I usually take the back roads. It’s a safer drive, and it gives us time to discuss and process the evening. We stopped at a little gas station on 6 Mile. While I was waited for Traci to come out, the kind man behind the counter started small talk about the weather. I cannot go anywhere without bring up Magdalene’s Mission. God finds a way to inject it into all sorts of random encounters.
The man told me that there were tons of homeless people who wandered in and out of his gas station. By the time we left, we had another spot to drop of hygiene kits packed with hats, socks, and gloves.
God doesn’t only work in mysterious ways. God also works in obvious ways. God works in simple ways. God works in random ways. God works always.
1 Corinthians 12:21-27 21 The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” 22 On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, 23 and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, 24 while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, 25 so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. 26If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.
27 Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.
The theme for this week is Gratitude. First, the Comella’s are humanities Heroes of the Week. They graciously let me borrow their van for street outreach last night. I know, I know, I said I would write this when I came home. Traci and I didn’t get home until after midnight. It was the longest day. Another angel on the hero list was Julie G for driving bread, fruit and snacks all the way to my house from Flint in time to bust out 50 sandwiches and meals. Off to Detroit! I had more prayed over blanket donations, etc. to bring with us. Our monthly hygiene donation was there waiting in the Magdalene’s Mission area. A lot to be grateful for!
The food must be prepared before we leave. Extra hands from Lilli and Marley make it move faster. I have a volunteer scheduled plan for that. Message me if you want in on it. Warm food season is coming. I’ll accept canned food donations. Anything non-perishable, really. I am a very creative cook. You’re welcome to be creative one week, too.
About 2 o’clock is when the next work for the week begins. I pack p hygiene kits while Traci packs clothes. Then we both put together the odds and ends. If anyone would like to come help put together a night of street outreach, between 2-5 is when we get it all together at the church.
When Traci and I finally took our dinner break, we returned to the same Middle Eastern restaurant. There was a thin blanket blowing over a bump that was covering a steaming manhole cover. Traci and I looked at the man on the ground. Then we looked at each other. She grabbed him a blanket, a meal and a backpack. Then she laid the blanket over him and gently placed the brown paper lunch bag and backpack beside his shivering, huddled frame.
The Street Outreach Medical Team was a loaded team tonight. Doctors, Nurses, dentists, it was great! We saw our harm reduction buddy, Andy, before we went out! He’s been beside us the entire journey. He informed me of a certain young lady (the one who gave me the Care Bear air freshener) who was in desperate need of all the supplies and clothing. I gave her a quick text before we took off to let her know we were on the street and ready to see her.
We didn’t make it far down Fort Street before the ambulance pulled off to the side of the road. It was the guy in front of the place where Traci and I eat. We let them know that we had given him basic supplies, but not medical. After a few minutes, one of the doctors came up to Traci’s window. She had a look of horror and disgust on her face. “He told us that a lady had already helped him. But that he could use a cigarette. I figured I could ask you.”
Of all the inconveniences a homeless person experiences, I have learned that it’s often the tiniest luxuries that can have an intimate impact. I always say that I approach every person I meet on the street like my friend. Not like my client, or my donation recipient, or like a homeless person, or a sex worker, or anything other than a friend that I am glad to see. I buy smokes and bum them out to people all night long. It starts a lot of conversations. Builds a lot of trust. It’s what your friend would do.
Yes, I am trying to quit. But until I do…
Our next stop was to a tent fort where a lady was very ill. The tents that were donated are keeping people alive long enough to get out of there. Tents are not simple luxuries. They are life or death survival supplies. It’s worth way more than a Camel. The doctors were with her for a long time. We prayed that she’ll be okay.
My favorite part of the night was when we drove away and were cruising through the neighborhood. One yard was overcrowded with broken cars, toys, furniture, etc. Random semi-useful items were piled up held in by a chain-link fence. Traci commented about how houses like that one reminds her of Sanford and Son. And then immediately in unison- “Bum-bum waa waa!”
And we recreated the entire Sanford and Son theme song. Which was also written by… the nearly departed Q, the late Quincy Jones. Which meant that while we waited for the ambulance at the gas station, Traci had to listen to Secret Garden, my favorite Quincy Jones song.
Up and down the boulevard we went looking for our people. We found couples here and there. The blankets went fast. The dental hygienist was out with us. She can kill the nerve in cavities with this silver stuff. It’s awesome. Another man walking by was grateful to see us. Every person we served, I prayed for them. I told them they were so loved, and that Jesus did not forget them, no matter what. Not even in this dark hole. God was there in the donations. “You are not forgotten”
God believes in us, so that we will believe in God.
Every single person returned the blessing. Every single person prayed right back over us, and thanked God for Magdalene’s Mission.
A women saw the ambulance and ran across the street to meet us. A moment later, she ran back searching for a $20 bill that she dropped. She was frantically going through her blanket and bag, searching the sidewalk and curb like a detective. I felt so bad for her.
We saw my Little Red-Haired Girl. She smiled at me! Traci told me she told her how grateful she was to see us that night. She apologized for cutting it short, but there was a car waiting for her. That girl is always working every time I see her. I think she is the hardest working women on the streets of Detroit.
After serving a couple of more people huddled in doorways, we made our way down the dark, narrow alleys behind the buildings. The first alley we went down had been cleared out of homeless people. The next alley had a three people huddled up in the shadows. Two men and a woman. We pulled over and they came out to us.
We found a couple of senior men out walking on our way to a large, abandoned house with many elderly people all living together. It’s where Ms. GG stays. They took the last of the food, coats, and hygiene backpacks.
The one request we heard over and over was for gloves.
We are out of gloves.
We are out of purses.
We are out of brakes. We are out of a rear passenger tire.
We have a food hook-up, and volunteers.
We have blankets and clothes, hats and scarves.
I just need a way to get them there.
I believe in God. God believes me. So, I pray.
Then I get to work like I am grateful for the honor to be useful to this world, to God. I am grateful that I have found a way that I can give back to the world, to God.
