Monday, 22 March 2010
Even more apologies
The intention was there, but unfortunately the health wasn't. I have been in bed for the last two weeks and today am being admitted to Hospital for a major abdominal surgery tomorrow. I have no idea how long before I will resume this blog, but rest assured I will be back.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Continuation from yesterday.
Ed tells me he has a circuit around Maryland, but he always winters in Baltimore, sleeping out on one of the benches in O'Donnell Square. The eateries here he tells me, tend to feed the homeless any perishable leavings at the end of the evening, if they are lucky, this being better than scavenging in the bins, when the soup kitchens are not in evidence. He tells me he has no likes or dislikes, as to him any food is a luxury. The odd person, will stop and press a bill or few dollars in his hand, but unlike so many of his compatriots, he does not drink it away, his luxury is a packet of cigarette's rather than the ends he picks from the street and the bins.
His life is hard, but he is answerable to no one, responsible for no one, and owes nothing to anyone. He tries to attend Church each week, wherever he finds himself to be, he has a remarkable faith, that one day he will be in a better life, and that now is just a period to be borne.
His shows me his shoes, the uppers are of a good quality leather, the soles full of holes, repaired with card and plastic bin bags. I feel so affluent against his poverty.
I ask him if he blames anyone or any circumstances for where he finds himself today, as he thinks this through, I watch his remarkable face, contorting through those years. No, he says, one can always blame others, but at the end of the day the responsibility is ones own. He tells me he believes he married to young, and aspired to the good life, without taking adequate precautions, house, children in private education, a high maintenance wife, and a business he did not shore up for the future, he also sites the fact that as a child he was a loner, preferring his own company, than being with others, and this has remained throughout his life,
He is happy to talk, but only if he wants to, and feels he has been approached with respect.
Ed, is an amazing guy, I so hope he has weathered this winter with so much snow and temperatures own to 16 degrees.
His life is hard, but he is answerable to no one, responsible for no one, and owes nothing to anyone. He tries to attend Church each week, wherever he finds himself to be, he has a remarkable faith, that one day he will be in a better life, and that now is just a period to be borne.
His shows me his shoes, the uppers are of a good quality leather, the soles full of holes, repaired with card and plastic bin bags. I feel so affluent against his poverty.
I ask him if he blames anyone or any circumstances for where he finds himself today, as he thinks this through, I watch his remarkable face, contorting through those years. No, he says, one can always blame others, but at the end of the day the responsibility is ones own. He tells me he believes he married to young, and aspired to the good life, without taking adequate precautions, house, children in private education, a high maintenance wife, and a business he did not shore up for the future, he also sites the fact that as a child he was a loner, preferring his own company, than being with others, and this has remained throughout his life,
He is happy to talk, but only if he wants to, and feels he has been approached with respect.
Ed, is an amazing guy, I so hope he has weathered this winter with so much snow and temperatures own to 16 degrees.
Monday, 1 March 2010
I always seem to be apologising
Hi to all of you, sorry not to have posted anything for a while, but have had a chronic Arthritis flare up, and for the last week have spent most of it in bed, with umpteen painkillers, finally on Thursday my Surgeon, decided to agree to a total Knee replacement within the next 12 weeks, this should take the constant pain away, at lease from the area which is worst, suffice to say, I have not been blogging or indeed writing, very difficult with swollen painful finger joints. Any way apology over and I am back,
I wanted to share with you something I wrote in Baltimore, following a talk with a homeless street person, it may have to be in two instalments, dependent on how my hands hold out.
The Tragedy of the American Homeless.
As I walk around the Canton district, I see forlorn and in the main elderly street people, wearing layer upon layer of clothing from the thrift stores and the charity bins at the local Churches, pushing their handcarts, containing their worldly goods.
Ed, a guy I have seen a number of times, and bought him numerous coffee's and sandwiches, is willing to talk to me.
His story is like so many others, back in the UK, marriage break-up, repossession of family home. He has been on the streets for 17 years, surviving on handouts and soup kitchens, clothing and the occasional bath from charitable concerns.
He has a hacking cough, and a real shortness of breath. His clothes are held together with twine and pins. His handcart is overflowing with his precious belongings, spare shoes and clothes he can layer onto what he is wearing as the weather gets even colder. A zimmer frame for when he is not pushing the handcart.
He tells me he is 52, younger than me, but to my eyes he looks in his late 70's or early 80's, I a shocked. His weathered face, so full of expression, and still he has remarkably twinkly eyes. If you manage to catch a smile, which is rare, his whole face transforms, and lights up.
(to be continued tomorrow)
I wanted to share with you something I wrote in Baltimore, following a talk with a homeless street person, it may have to be in two instalments, dependent on how my hands hold out.
The Tragedy of the American Homeless.
As I walk around the Canton district, I see forlorn and in the main elderly street people, wearing layer upon layer of clothing from the thrift stores and the charity bins at the local Churches, pushing their handcarts, containing their worldly goods.
Ed, a guy I have seen a number of times, and bought him numerous coffee's and sandwiches, is willing to talk to me.
His story is like so many others, back in the UK, marriage break-up, repossession of family home. He has been on the streets for 17 years, surviving on handouts and soup kitchens, clothing and the occasional bath from charitable concerns.
He has a hacking cough, and a real shortness of breath. His clothes are held together with twine and pins. His handcart is overflowing with his precious belongings, spare shoes and clothes he can layer onto what he is wearing as the weather gets even colder. A zimmer frame for when he is not pushing the handcart.
He tells me he is 52, younger than me, but to my eyes he looks in his late 70's or early 80's, I a shocked. His weathered face, so full of expression, and still he has remarkably twinkly eyes. If you manage to catch a smile, which is rare, his whole face transforms, and lights up.
(to be continued tomorrow)
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