“Where do the homeless go?”

Her name is Reese. She spent every day and night, rain, or shine, laying on this metal bench in my neighborhood. She kept herself covered all the time, or so it seemed. Clearly she was homeless. You never saw her asking for anything, however people randomly placed food and drink near her occasionally. They never stayed long enough to see if she consumed any of it though. At this point COVID-19 was in full swing, and the country was on lockdown.

You may start to wonder, “how is it you know her name?”

In “My Life” Stories, “Walking the Walk” , I shared how walking became my daily routine. Walking allowed me to get out and get that much needed fresh air, sun, and exercise, during the height of the pandemic. I also mentioned that it was the perfect time to listen to music and podcasts that I found interesting, uninterrupted by the ongoing depressing news surrounding the pandemic. “Well, this is also how I came to know Reese”.

As I started making my daily 1.5-mile trek around my neighborhood, I noticed a woman, wrapped up on a bench along the sidewalk that I traveled. Actually, I paid very little attention to her. I walked by with my wireless headphones blaring in my ears, just happy to be out of the house.

The pandemic gave me the opportunity to sit down and really reflect on where I was in my life. I had gone through so much up to that point (cancer, divorce, death of my parents and friends). Other than being stuck in the house for a good part of the day, life was good. I began to appreciate the fact that I still had a job, a place to live, food on the table, and was healthy enough to do a 1.5-mile walk every day. And then came that 11pm phone call. “Every adult knows that if the phone rings after 11pm, something has gone terribly wrong”. Unfortunately, another friend had been taken by COVID-19.

As the pandemic raged on, the podcasts that I began listening to during my walks became more inspirational and motivational. Now when I walked by that person, covered up on the bench, I would say, “good morning”. Still listening to my podcasts, keeping a steady brisk pace, and never once taking my headphones off to hear if there was a response. That too became my daily routine.

One day, during my walk, as I was approaching the bench, she sat up and reached her hand out to me. I slowed and removed my headphones. She said, “you walk by me every day and say good morning. I just want you to know that I really appreciate that”. I was shocked. I stopped and sat there on the bench with her, and she told me her story.

“My name is Reese”, she said. She told me about how she had lost her job due to the pandemic. Then shortly thereafter she lost her housing. She had been living on the street in another part of town, but she got robbed, so she wandered into a seemingly nicer area in hopes that it would be safer. She talked intelligently about her situation and even though she spent days on that bench, she always looked neat and healthy, unlike some of the other homeless people that I had seen in the area. She never once asked me for anything that whole time we talked. I left her sitting on that bench, thinking to myself, “what can I do to help her?” I called my older sister and told her the entire story. I asked her, “what should I do?” She answered with, “do what you feel in your heart”.

I thought about helping her find a homeless shelter. I thought about contacting a local church to see what resources they may have to help her. I also thought about using the hotel points that I had accumulated to put her up in a hotel until she could find shelter. I ran several more scenarios through my mind, hoping to come up with something that would be more permanent.

The next time I saw Reese, I witnessed from a distance, the police gathering all of her belongings and assisting her into a van and driving off. I wasn’t sure how I felt about what had  happened, but maybe my ideas of assistance manifested into something more permanent and safer for her, off the street. A homeless shelter perhaps.

A few weeks later Reese found her way back to that bench. As I approached, she reached her hand out to me. She said, “I want you to have these socks. If you don’t need them, please give them to someone who may need them”. She mentioned that they were men’s socks and that they were too big for her. She said that she knew that I would find them a good home. All I could think of was, “wow”. My mind was flooded with a series of emotions, just trying to rationalize the giving of this gift from a homeless person.

The next day Reese was gone. A week later the bench was removed. The only evidence that the bench was even there are the (4) remaining holes in the concrete where the bench had been secured in place. Where did she go? I have no idea. Hopefully some place safe off the street.  

“Always be grateful for what you have, many people have nothing”.