Of the 12,000 homeless in Washington, DC, Bill stands out. Maybe it’s his charismatic demeanor the empathic tone of his voice. Whatever it may be, I will remember my encounter with Bill.
Bill getting ready for bed on K Street.
I was walking north on 21st Street late at night. I stopped and waited for the green walk sign to illuminate and crossed K Street. It was void of all of the lobbyists and corporate types that fill the sidewalks during the day. Despite the “Don’t Walk” sign I crossed the empty street. As I approached the other side I saw a man on the northwest corner bundled in a sleeping bag in front of the glass doors of a bank. The area was well-lit and I walked over to him.
Homeless on the streets of our nation’s capital for over five years, Bill ended up on the streets after the death of his father and subsequent loss of employment.
Chills sprung up around my neck as he told me that he was born in Harrisburg Hospital in Pennsylvania. Not only is it very close to where I grew up but it is the very same hospital where my mother died four years ago.
We talked a little bit about the Central Pennsylvania area. He went to York Catholic High School. I went to Mechanicsburg High School. And although we were separated by about 20 years I felt some kind of connection with Bill.
He lucidly spoke to me about being homeless. “You have to be,” he began to say as he tugged at his dark hooded sweatshirt, “somewhat detached from reality to be homeless.” He describes the mental state that one gets into as a sort of shock. It paralyzes some individuals and they simply are unable to break out of the cycle. “You could write a good book about being homeless though,” he perked up and said. “You could call it Squirrels on Food Stamps. I mean we sit in parks all day like the squirrels.”
Despite the obvious dark side of being alone and homeless in America, Bill tells me of a side many people don’t know about. “It’s dangerous out here for those of us who are homeless. Sometimes you end up being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Bill was referring to an incident a few years earlier where at that very spot where he was sitting he was attacked by someone while he was sleeping. He woke up to bone crushing blows to his skull. “Thankfully I am just a few hundred yards from GW Hospital. The doctor there told me I was 15 minutes away from dying.” He is still noticeably bothered about the incident. His voice silenced and we both just looked at each another. “You can still see some of the blood stains over there,” he said pointing to a grape jam colored spot just feet away from where he was going to rest his head that night.
I found out we have something else in common other than being from Central Pennsylvania. Bill used to live around the corner from my apartment in DC. “That area has changed a lot since I lived there.” He lived there from 1984-1995 and said that his rent started at $350 and ended at $450 per month. Well, I can tell you that it has skyrocketed since those days. “I lived across from Nora’s,” he said referring to a high-end restaurant noted for being the first certified organic restaurant in the United States. Some of you might remember that I took my father there for dinner on his 70th birthday on Day 306.
“In fact I used to steal fresh herbs from their garden,” Bill said chuckling a little.
He was going to use my $10 to buy himself breakfast the next morning. “I usually go over to Miriam’s Kitchen, but I get so tired of that. I’m going to go to the cafeteria at GW and get some sausage and biscuits.”
Before I left I told him about the Lend a Hand project. “You know what I would love,” Bill started to say enthusiastically, “an electric blanket.” Now you might wonder how a homeless guy is going to use an electric blanket, but Bill is pretty smart. He sleeps right next to an electrical outlet. So if you want to make a 55-year-old man’s day, send me an electric blanket and I will deliver it to Bill.
UPDATE: 11/28/2010
This is a first! Less than 12 hours from when I posted this someone already sent me a brand new electric blanket for Bill. Thank you Michelle!!! When I receive it I will take it to him and try to post a picture or video, although he was not comfortable with me taking his picture when I met him….so we will have to see. Thanks again! You have been such a great supporter of the Year of Giving!
UPDATE: 12/5/2010
I delivered the electric blanket that Michelle from NC sent for Bill. He was so thankful and it is really cold tonight so I am sure it will get good use. Can you believe that he said he wanted to write a little note to the bank to ask permission to use their electricity? Unbelievable. He said that he could also use some size 8.5 shoes or boots with winter coming.
Welcome to Mechanicsburg, PA, a suburb of the state capital of Harrisburg and a stone’s throw away form the Three Mile Island – the nuclear facility that suffered a partial core meltdown in a pressurized water reactor almost 31 years ago to the day.
I was walking in the downtown area of Mechanicsburg when I walked by Mike sitting on his front porch using his computer. It was chilly out but he was enjoying the crisp air. Mike is 50 years old, father of two girls, and the Executive Director of the 
Year of Giving 