Paul

I just wanted to take a few moments to talk about the man who trained me to be an R.A. at Grace House.  Paul Douglas was about 50, 6’3", 270lbs and coffee black.  He had a penchant for wearing Kangols and t-shirts and baggy shorts despite the weather.  Paul was big and very intimidating and used that to his advantage often. He kept Grace House in line with his presence and cool; almost Shere Kahn meets the dirty south delivery. 

My first run in with him came the first night I had been accepted as a resident of Grace House.  After bed check I went into the bathroom and washed my one and only pair of socks in the sink.  Just as I was finishing up, Paul walked in the door and looked at me coldly.  "Now, were not gonna have a problem here are we Mr. Ware?"  He already knew the answer from my face before I answered,; "No, Mr. Douglas, no problems."  As I tucked in my tail and headed back to my bunk. 

Paul could be a hard, hard man to be around and a little over a month later when I was asked to be an R.A., he verbally beat me into the form of an R.A. that I would need to be to deal with some of these men.  And it was really tough sometimes and I had to eat much crow and bite my tongue nearly off in the process.  But because of Paul, I got armored and was able to move through critical situation after verbally violent confrontations with deliberate ease.

And the reason above all others that I was able to survive in the R.A.'s office was because Paul showed me how to genuinely care for these me and Grace House.  Paul, under the gruff exterior loved these men with all his heart and soul.  He gave and sacrificed and spent his personal money to keep up the place and her residents.  Paul advised, counseled, cajoled and crushed with equal amounts of care and respect.  He never called someone a "Rot Gut Mother..." without giving a man a chance to prove himself to be better than that.  He never came down hard with out throwing a life preserver behind himself to tow a man back to shore.

I remember during my first week, Paul was talking to a young man (in his early 20's) about how everyone was proud of how he was coming along, making real progress in school.  And no more than a half hour after Paul’s pep talk, this young man got into a verbally vicious confrontation with the Case Manager and the young man was almost escorted off property by the police.  I was there to see these two incidents and the one that followed.  When Paul was told about the young man, he almost broke down in tears...I mean I literally watched this steam engine of a man's heart break before my eyes for this one lost sheep.

Paul taught me to be hard and by the book but to always be measured with compassion for the Homeless.  He taught me more than I was ever able to thank him for.  Paul Douglass passed away suddenly in the fall of 2009.  By then he had moved out of Grace House and I was in charge of the R.A.'s office. Paul had told me just before I took over for him "We do things differently, but I like your swagger."  That meant a lot to me...and by the time he left this world I was honored to call him friend.

Rev. Micheal Elliott, in Paul's eulogy said that as he was standing on the beach after Paul’s death, he saw a container ship heading into the horizon with a lone seaman standing on the deck.  As the ship passed from site Michael whispered "Goodbye Paul" to that one, lone seaman.  I wish I had heard Micheal say these words; someone relayed them to me later, because at the time he was saying this I was at the desk at Grace House helping visitors and residents.  Carrying on his work, helping and standing up for these men, the Homeless, became my eulogy to Paul