Downtown 7/25/2010

"Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action."- -1 John 3:18


My car was in the shop all last weekend (Sat-Tues) keeping me from going downtown. It was only the second time I've been unable to go since I started doing this well over a year ago now. So yesterday I was pretty eager to go and went down there early in the morning. I also had an extra incentive this week that would make this trip special. The 5th and 6th grade VBS class that my sister-in-law, Debbie, was teaching and my niece Corinne was a part of, donated 10 loaves of bread and plenty of water for this trip. Now I usually only take 6 loaves with me and once in a while one or two extra loaves, but never 10 loaves. So I was a little concerned about having so much more that usual. After all, bread does have a 'shelf life'. I thought if I didn't give it all out downtown on Sunday, then perhaps I'd find some people around here where I live in the next few days that I could help out. So here's what happened...
I arrived early, around 8:10, and started looking for folks on the North side of town. I drove up San Fernando Rd where I met Robert a couple of weeks ago. However, I didn't see any homeless along that road so I drove back to North Main St. and headed towards downtown. Around Sotello and W. Ann St on North Main I found Charles pushing his cart with his dog, Smith. When I asked where he was from he said he was born in Mexico but raised here in the States. He thought I looked familiar and asked if my name was Curtis. I said, "No, I'm John. So where are you staying around here?" He told me he was living behind the Skyline Warehouse, behind the dumpsters on Naud St. I told him I'd look for him again next week there. He was very cheerful, happy and thankful for the food and water. I was thinking later about his description of where he lived. My parents lived in a rural area in a midwestern state for many years. For a long time their address in that town was simply Route 1, Box 26. Charles's address was no less descriptive and I'm sure I will have no trouble finding him. But imagine having as your address "behind the warehouse and behind the dumpters on Naud St". Well that's where my new friend Charles lives and I look forward to seeing him there. I'll probably be able to talk there with him longer and perhaps be able to give him some clothes or other items to help him out.
I continued toward downtown but turned off N. Main at Vignes Steet. Vignes isn't a very long street and the most notable address on it is the Los Angeles County Jail. As I turned onto that street I saw two Latino men walking down the street. Both had backpacks on and one was pushing a shopping cart and the other was pushing a bicycle. I pulled up alongside them and asked if they needed some food. They both said, "Yes, we need food." quite definitively so I pulled over to the side of the street. Their names were Garde (I think) and Miguel and I was able to give them each a bag of food and some water. They looked like they hadn't eaten in a while and were pretty happy for the help.
When I got to the end of Vignes I turned east on Cesar Chavez Ave and then north on Mission Rd. There is a man who lives on a concrete bench as Mission goes over some railroad tracks just before Lincoln Park. I stopped once before several months ago to help him. The lane closest to the curb is a right turn only lane so it's hard to get away with stopping there for very long but I figured I could this early on a Sunday morning. Anyway, as I approached where he lives I noticed that he wasn't there nor was his shopping cart there. So I continued on toward Lincoln Park and turned onto Valley Blvd. On the right hand side of the road I saw a man and a woman with all of their stuff sitting on the ground up against a chain link fence. Where they were was set down from the street a little. Remember I had just come over a bridge over some railroad tracks (that was what was on the other side of the chain link fence). I almost didn't see them but I quickly stopped and pulled over and got out to meet them. I grabbed a bag of food and started walking toward them. The man had gotten up and was walking toward me. His name was Phillip and the woman's name turned out to be Nancy. He was 52 years old and was from Whittier. Before Nancy joined us I had given Phillip the bag of food and some water and prayed with him. When I finished, he prayed too, thanking God that I had stopped to help them. They had been staying across the street in the park Saturday night but were kicked out by the police at 1:30 in the morning and had relocated to where they were when I found them. They had a lot of stuff in their carts and didn't need any blankets. I was able to give Nancy a couple of pairs of womens socks and I had one pair left of regular size socks that I gave Phillip. Nancy said she had been living in this area (presumably homeless) for eight years. Phillip was a veteran and said they were both waiting until their "benefits" kick in. They didn't say how long that would be. However, they both looked like any other couple that might be living on your street. I was sorry to see them having to struggle like they were. I was also glad to be able to show them that God cares about them after they were rousted in the middle of the night in the park. Yes, I gave them another bag of food too. Nancy asked if I just drove around all day giving out food. I told them I come down here once a week and try to find people who need some help. It's hard to describe the look on people's faces after you've helped them out and they are so thankful. It's a look that says, "I can't believe you came here and helped me!" I get it often, it makes the trips well worth it and as always, it remains a privilege to do so.
In the next 15 minutes or so I was able to help Victor who lives under the overpass at the I-5 and North Main (he was a couple of blocks away from there but I recognized him anyway), Ron who lives on the 4th St. bridge (turns out he's from Idaho and is going to go back home soon) and Ignacio (the man who looks like Moses--see the picture from two weeks ago). Now Ignacio was pushing his cart about a half a block from the east side of the 4th St bridge and as I left him I drove north on Mission Rd toward 1st Street. As I got to the signal there, a man had crossed the street carrying only a small plastic bag. He looked like he was 'working' (recycling). His name was Patrick and he was happy to get some food. He passed on the water though, saying he had some in his pocket. Carrying a gallon of water while you're walking around can be difficult after a short time (unless you're really thirsty).
The last guy I helped was Michael from Texas. He was sitting on a bench on Boyle Ave. His shopping cart was next to him and he had on earphones and was reading a newspaper. He had what looked like a couple of plastic bags of stuff at his feet. As I pulled up next to him and tried to get his attention (he was listening to a radio) I noticed one of his legs was badly swollen. The other leg was in one of those plastic bags all the way up to his knee. He didn't talk much but said he was getting therapy for his legs. He was well enough and able to get up and come over to the car to get the food and water. If I had realized his condition sooner, I would have just gotten out and gone over to him. It was now 9:25 a.m., I had been down here barely an hour and fifteen minutes and had given out all the loaves of bread and bags of food and seven gallons of water. Usually, it takes at least a couple of hours or so to find the folks needing the most help. I had been praying a lot since Saturday night about God leading me to the right people this morning with the extra supplies to meet their needs. It was really unbelievable how quickly it all went. Praise God for His faithfulness in directing our steps. Another amazing thing was that I really never ended up downtown but instead all of these people were North and just East of the actual downtown area. Later in the morning I was reading those short letters of the Apostle John when I ran across that verse up above. I always love the way he tenderly refers to his readers as his "little children". You can tell he cared so much for them and this was the guy who, with his brother, wanted to call down fire from heaven when a town rejected Jesus' message one day. Well, Jesus sure did a number on that John's heart. Likewise, Jesus sure did a number on this John's heart too. If you had told me thirty years ago when I use to drive these streets everyday that I'd be coming down here on my day off to help homeless people, I would have told you "No way." But here I am. These are my "little children" and God has given me a love for these "least of these".--Until next week. John

PS. There was one other man I tried to help. Just after I saw Ignacio and before Patrick, I saw the most helpless and hopeless looking man of the morning. He was standing and kind of shuffling around next to a building on a deserted street under the 4th St. bridge. I asked him if he needed any food or water or clothing items and he declined them all. I asked him three times what his name was but I could never quite make out what he said. I felt later that I should have just gotten out of the car and prayed with him. I'm guessing that he was probably 65 years old or so. It's been kind of haunting me ever since I drove away. He was on Mission Rd. and I'll call him Mr. Mission. Please pray for him.