Mortality...and the Homeless

I just found out this week that two people that at a time I was very close to died.  Both of them died at the end of last year. 

One was a well respected leader of Zion Temple Apostolic Pentecostal Church out in Denver, Co.  Pastor Robert E. Martin, Sr. was a beloved pastor and "a man after God's own heart".  It may be easy to say, but if you had known Pastor Robert, seen the love and joy that exuded from him and saw the peace he left in his wake you would understand.  He was a beautiful man and I am glad to have been in his flock for a time and his example I still carry with me of patience, perseverance and above all his kindness.

The second was a young man, barely a man, who was killed in one of those freak accidents we all hear of, a jeep jumped the curb and killed him while he stood at the bus stop.  Stefan Fairfax was a young man that was overcoming the obstacles that plague many of the young men in our community. He struggled to give school his full attention while the life he grew up in subjected him to unnecessary pressures that a 17 year old should never have to face.  I met Stefan while we were both living at the Salvation Army and tried to be a friend to him, his big brother Anthony and to his mom, Sandra.  But a homeless shelter is a hard place to live when you are a teenager, especially among 40+ year old men with various mental health, hygiene and social interaction issues.
 
Elder Robert had a full and very productive life, Stefan had not really begun to live life, yet many people have memorialized them both...because they were both cared for. And that is a beautiful thing even in tragedy.

On December 21, 2010 a group of no more than 15 people gathered together to memorialize the 17 or so Homeless people that have died in the Savannah area in the last 3 years.  Many that were there may have had only a passing association with any person on that list.  During the ceremony, when the group of people were asked to say something about any - ANY of the people on that list - no one stood to say anything.   And my heart broke right then and there.  17 people died and no one had anything to say about a single one of them.  They were just part of the system, inconsequential...vanishing people expected to disappear... So when it did happen no one noticed or really cared. 

Funny thing is, a few weeks before this event came near Marvin Heery, another Homeless homeless advocate (http://homelessnessinsavannah.blogspot.com/) was asked to help design this event by the Savannah/Chatham Authority for the Homeless.   Marvin asked me for my input...and we designed an event where those who attended would be asked to bring a sleeping bag, prepared to stay the night at Forsythe Park, making for a small simulation of what a Homeless person "in the wind" goes through nightly.  We also would be raising money for a glass monument commemorating the "Invisible People" (another term for the Homeless) who have passed on.  Not too complicated, but Homeless Authority thought it was too, too something (?) and went with a simple service out on B Road (The Salvation Army's Church location) staged by the Salvation Army.  Very nice, quiet and finished in 20 minutes with not one individual Homeless person recognized.

So, I was on the schedule to read a poem (That I will post at a later date), but before I read , I had to tell about a Homeless man that I knew who had passed away in the fall, Kenny Stewart. 

Kenny was a smallish, white man in his mid 40's and passerby's might call him a "Redneck".  Kenny was distinct for a few reasons one of which being the hat he always wore with the original Georgia flag emblazoned across the front...that's right, the one with the Confederate Flag still on it.  Sure, this is the South, and you don't have to travel many miles without seeing the 'Stars & Bars' hanging off someone's porch.  But here in the shelter that is probably 50 - 75% African American at any given time, this hat issue began to stir the pot.  When the other residents came to me (in my capacity as head Resident Assistant at the time) with cries of racism and insensitivity, I pulled Mr. Stewart into the R.A. office to discuss 'the hat'.  Turns out Kenny wasn't trying to be insensitive at all, the hat had been one of the last things he had of his father's and he wore it in memory of him.  This was a very emotional issue for Kenny and when the rest of the story had come out we were able to smooth things over with the other residents fairly quickly.  You see the Homeless generally have so few things with memories attached to them, that the few things we have grow increasingly precious to us. Kenny was trying to be a good man, trying to get his life back together.  I met his wife, Cindy, who was staying at a women's shelter at the time and she was very sweet and genuine.  Kenny went out everyday, rain or shine, looking for work (which is a full time job in it self at times), started going to church with his wife and battled daily against that demon, alcoholism.  But, unfortunately, Kenny lost that battle.  He ended up getting put out of the shelter and not too long after that the authorities found Kenny's body in the Savannah River.  Kenny tried and at least someone should have had that to say about him...he really tried.  His requiem that night deserved more than the sound of silence.

I am not faulting the Salvation Army for the service; at least they endeavored to give a reverent and solemn service to these that had passed.  I suppose what weighed on me is the fact that so few knew or came to the event and of the members of the social services organizations and even the few Homeless that were in attendance,  nobody spoke for those who had come and gone.  I am no saint or martyr, just a guy who saw and said something...I guess kinda like what I am doing here.  Just saying something so people will remember that we were, that we are.

I pray a prayer for the families of my three departed friends...and for peace.