Around the corner from David, I almost drove past another man sleeping in a parking lot alone. When I got over to him and asked if he needed some help, he started speaking in Spanish and kept talking thinking I understood him (which I
didn't). I think he said his name was Jaime, but I'm not sure. After giving him some help and praying with him he said, probably about the only words he knew in English, "Oh, thank you." I received it like it was a blessing from a king.
I continued to drive around in that area near Olive St and on a very small side street just west and parallel to Olive I encountered three different men on the same street. Luis was the first man I met. He spoke very little English and when I finished praying with him I noticed he had taken his cap off and had bowed his head. I then thought he might be able to use one of the knitted caps I had so I gave him one of those too. He had nothing except the clothes on his back, the bag of food I had given him and a handful of coins. His words to me as we parted were, "Thank you so much." Just down and across the street about 20 yards was another man sleeping on the sidewalk. His name was Hernando. He looked familiar, but he didn't indicate that he recognized me. Through the car window I asked if he needed some food and he responded by getting up and coming towards the car. I
stopped and got out to meet him. Here was another man who again, had nothing but the clothes on his back. His last words to me were, "Have a happy day." Just past Hernando was another man who was all bundled up and sitting on the sidewalk next to his shopping cart ( a man with a shopping cart is a man with some status on this street!). His name was Reginald. He was 46 years old and from Houston. He told me he had moved out here with his grandmother when he was 4 or 5 years old because,as she explained it, the educational benefits were better. I thought he was going to cry just thinking back about it. I had given him a bag of food and when I asked if he needed some water he told me, "I'd really like some beer." I told him I wasn't set up to go around giving out beer, but I did have some water. He then told me, "I willing to have whatever the Lord will provide." In the bag of food I gave him was a can of Chunky soup with beef in it. He told me it was his favorite soup. When I got back to him with the water he had already opened the can and had started eating. I ended up giving him a couple more cans of food. We actually talked for about fifteen minutes or so and it was really nice since the first four encounters I hadn't really been able to engage in conversation much. When I left Reginald, I told him loved him and God loved him too. He cheerfully replied, "God always loves me." One of the really cool things about the men on this street was that they all acted like they couldn't believe their good fortune that day. It's amazing what a little help at the right time can mean to someone.
Before going over to Cloud Nine Alley I drove over to the other side of town by Alameda St. I ended up seeing John Melon and his friend Dawn on an alley just east of Alameda at Olympic. Both of them had been injured in an alley they were living in on the other side of Alameda. John was doing OK, but Dawn never did stand up while I was there. I hadn't seen John since last fall. At the time he told me he was with Dawn and told me to go drive by where they were living, but when I did she wasn't interested in receiving any help (she didn't know who I was). In fact, I never did see her, but only talked to her through the make-shift 'housing' they had set up at the time. Anyway, John is quite a talker and told me in detail how they had been run over by the trucks going down the alley and that none of the drivers ever stopped or would acknowledge their injuries. It was another example of how homeless people are invisible and have little or no recourse when they are abused. The memorable thing for me about this encounter was that I prayed with them before leaving. Now, John was one of the first people I met when I started making these trips and the first time I met him I offered to pray with him before leaving, but he refused the offer of prayer. One of the last times I saw him, when we parted he told me he loved me and that he would pray for me. What a turnaround, huh? This time I prayed with the three of them and with my arm around John. This is the power of building relationships. Amen!
Now it was time to head over to Cloud Nine Alley. Since I've been going during the week for the last few months, it has seemed a somewhat fruitless endeavor. Deep inside I know that prayer time is never fruitless, but we get impatient when we don't see quick results or progress. During the week the church is not open and the people living in the alley aren't there in the daytime (at least I never see anyone). The only people I see are the people working in the businesses that are on either side of the alley. The alley is their back door. Today I knew the church would probably be open, although it was still a couple of hours before the 6 p.m. service would start. I started prayer-walking up Los Angeles St and then back down the alley. As I got to about the half-way part and just past where the words 'cloud nine' are spray painted I saw a man standing out in the alley. We said hello to each other and started talking. I asked him if he knew Gary who had lived in the parking lot next the church just a little further down the alley. He told me Gary was one of his best friends and he had actually seen him a couple of days before when a film crew shot some footage there in the alley. It turns out his name is Ray and he lived in a literal hole in the brick wall on one side of the alley. The hole is actually a doorway that is not in use. It usually has a pallet or two leaning up against it and is covered with blankets. I have never seen anyone in there. I told Ray that I've been coming down this alley once a week for several months now and one time recently I saw all his stuff laying out in the alley like it was there to dry out. I told me that "Yeah, everything got wet in the rain." I also told him I had left a can of soup on one of the pallets a while back. He was kind of shocked and said, "That was you?" I told him it was and he told me he had heard something and a minute or so later he poked his head out and saw someone (me) walking down at the end of the alley. He then saw the can of soup and put the two together. He told me the can of soup was a god-send at the time. He started telling me a little about himself at this point. He has a family history of Lupus that has claimed the lives of his mother, uncle and sister. He told me he has the disease also, although I didn't see any signs of it at this point. Ray was very talkative and we actually had a lot in common. He is 44 years old. When I told him I prayer-walk this alley once a week he asked if next week he could walk with me! Perhaps, God has placed me here to walk with Ray in the months ahead. If that's the case, I look forward to it. I'll take it one week at a time, hopefully, we'll be able to hook-up again next week. We must have hung out together for 45 minutes or so. I thoroughly enjoyed the time spent with Ray.
Well, it was now time to head over to skid row. As I turned down 6th St and passed by the police station I saw a KCal 9 TV crew interviewing someone in front of the police staion. I didn't recognize either of them and didn't think much more about it. I drove on down the street and passed by the missions and found a place to park. Usually, I take a bag with some cans of food and start praying and looking for someone I might give the food to. However, I was out of food except for a few packs of cookies so I put about 5 or 6 of them in my pockets and just started walking back up the street. It was still light out, probably a little after 5 p.m. One missionary group had set up a food table across the street from the Midnight Mission and they were just about to finish up serving meals there. I think they do this every Sunday. There was also a large crowd of people already inside the courtyard at the Midnight Mission and it was really noisey there as I walked by. A police car with a couple of policemen was parked a little ways past the entrance because there was an injured man sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk there. They asked him if he was in pain, but I didn't hear his response. They told him that paramedics would be arriving soon. I didn't see where he was injured. I ended up in front of the police station just after the TV crew had pulled away. I thought I would stay there and pray for a few minutes asking for some guidance on who I might pray with. I looked up behind me by the police building and saw a man sitting right near me on the planter retaining wall. About 10 feet behind him was a flag pole and I noticed that the American flag was at half-mast. I asked the man if he had heard about anyone dying that might make them lower the flag. He said he hadn't heard anything and didn't think anyone 'famous' had died and his guess was perhaps a policeman had died. I ended up talking with "Bill" for probably 20 minutes or so. Bill was from Chicago, 63 years old and has been out here for most of the last 20 years. At one point he was looking for his cain which he had hung on the railing to the handicapped ramp (where I had been standing) and got up to go get it. I took the opportunity to hand it to him and went and sat down with him. I asked if he could use a pack of cookies. He told me he had gotten a meal, but no dessert so, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I would like some cookies." Bill had worked for the railroad back in Chicago and had gotten a broken back in a train accident. He told me everyone else in the car he was in was killed, so he considered himself lucky to have survived with just a broken back. He also, in a separate train accident, had been buried for 5 hours under a pile of coal from a box car and ended up with asthma. Despite these misfortunes, he considered himself to be doing OK and he couldn't complain. He first arrived out here 20 years ago and then after a time had left the area. When he came back here 10 years ago the turnover downtown among the homeless was probably 50 percent. Then he left and came back again about 5 years ago and there had been another big turnover of people, until now there were few people left from even just 3 or 4 years ago. Well, I prayed with Bill before leaving, asking for God's protection and healing and for some help for Bill's current situation. As I got up to leave he thanked me for praying for him. Just then a man in a wheelchair was going down the street right in front of us and I said "Hello" to him. He returned the hello and thanked me for "praying with us" (now I hadn't prayed with him). He was wearing a Korean War Veteran's cap and I took the opportunity to thank him for his service for our country. I told him both of my parents were in WWII. He told me he lost two brothers in that war. We talked for just a minute or so as we crossed the next street. He was turning down the side street and I was continuing on down 6th. I helped push him up the handicapped 'driveway' to get on the sidewalk and he again thanked me for praying with them. By now it was after 6 p.m. and it was getting a little cold. The folks down there were putting up their tents for the night and hoping it wouldn't rain. It turns out it did rain later that night. I was kind of bummed out about it. I handed out the rest of the packs of cookies on my way back to the car. All in all, it was a really good trip. I love going on Sundays, I think you can see what a difference it makes in the ability to talk with people. Until next week. --John
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