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.
Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.
Amen.
