Mother's Day--Downtown 5/8/2011

I ended up going pretty early on Sunday. I think I was down there around 9 a.m. and since it was overcast it seemed even earlier. I went to Lincoln Park first in hopes of finding Phillip and Nancy (I haven't given up on them yet). I didn't find them, but did talk to a couple of people who had seen them fairly recently. The first guy was actually near where they used to stay. His name was Henry and he told me he had been staying there for about a week. He came here from Mexico about 40 years ago and works as a farm laborer. I couldn't believe it when he told me he was 79 years old. He looked to be in great health. He is out of work at this time, but he told me in another two months he would be able to work in the fields in Bakersfield. Do you know how hot it gets in Bakersfield in the summer? The other homeless man I found by Lincoln Park was a rather dimunitive man by the name of James. He was from Detroit, Michigan and was a Viet Nam veteran. He had been injured in several places on his body during the war (and showed them to me), yet he maintained a tremendous faith and love for God who saw him through many difficult circumstances. He was quite a talker and when I gave him a Guide Post magazine and a Gospel of John booklet he said, "I sure would like to have a full Bible." Well, I just happened to have an extra one in the car so I gave it to him also. He had me read Hebrews 2:13 and Titus 2:13 to him. They held special significance to him. It was a privilege to help and pray with both men.

I left Lincoln Park after this and headed up Alameda. I knew Robert would be somewhere on a side street off 4th. He was asleep when I pulled up and so I got out and brought him some food and water. He had slept through the night with just a blanket around him (see the photo).
I asked him if he knew it was Mother's Day. He indicated he didn't. He told me his Mother's name was Mary.

Another man on the other side of town, Dalton, told me his Mother's name was Maureen. I commented that that sounds like an Irish name and he proudly said, Irish and English. He was up early that day because as he said, "I gotta make some money." Hopefully, the bag of food I gave him took some of the pressure off the day.

I've also been looking for Doug for the last month. The last time I saw him he was looking to get checked into a hospital. I drove over to where I saw him last, but he wasn't around. I did see a man in shorts with no shirt or shoes on sleeping in a corner up against a chain link fence on the sidewalk. In talking with him he seemed somewhat delusional, although he did recognize the food in the bag I gave him. He said his name was Smitty and you had to see him to believe how dirty he was.

I had already prayer-walked on skid row at this point, so I headed over to Cloud Nine Alley. Nothing special happened at either place on Sunday, although I did talk to one of the men at Pastor Rodriguez's church who patrols the area when a service is going on. His name was Marbin (pronounced Mar-beene). He recognized me and remembered me when I spoke in their church last October. You might be wondering why I continue to prayer-walk in these places. As I stated, nothing special happened Sunday and probably more often than not that is the case. However, we are told by the Apostle Paul to "pray without ceasing." I ran across a short narrative written by a man named Derek Langran who lives in Ireland. This story was published in a missionary newsletter I saw several years ago. It is quite a remarkable story and makes the point about persevering in prayer and the amazing results that may take years to come to fruition. This was published in the winter of 2006 from a Greater Europe Mission Publication called Europe Today. The title was "Pray without Ceasing" and subtitled, 'God let me see an answer to the faithful prayers my father uttered so long ago.':

I can recall sitting on a horse-drawn wagon in 1943, rattling over the cobbles in Foley Street, beside a driver called Ned, en route to Fairview with a delivery of beds. I was eight years old. Twice a week I walked down Foley Street to meet my dad, who managed an upholstery factory there. It was an appalling street with terrible tenements and overcrowding that the Dublin of today knows nothing about. The cobbled street was neglected, filthy, and poorly lit.
Midway through 2005, I looked out from the top of the Ulysses House ministry and realized, with growing amazement, that I was standing on the very site of the premises managed by my father all those years ago. Dad worked in Foley Steet for more than 20 years. He prayed each day for the street and its poverty-stricken people. He often gave little tracts about Jesus to the children and paid them small sums of money to keep an eye on his bicycle.
Looking out from the Ulysses House, I thanked God that my father's prayers for the street and for Dublin had been answered. I hope this will encourage all prayer warriors. God inevitably hears and answers--in His own way and time. My dad died in 1988 without seeing his prayers answered, but the Irish Bible Institute now stands on the site, and that is an answer to prayer.

Amen to that.--Until next week. John

Downtown 5/1/2011

After skipping a trip last week due to the Easter weekend, I was looking forward to Sunday's trip. I tried to find Javier and his wife, but the Cubans living next to where they were said they were living in what sounded like one of the low cost hotels (I'm not sure which one) downtown in the skid row area. Although I'm glad they are not living in a tent anymore, some of those hotels are substandard and have people living in and around them who aren't the best of neighbors either. At least this is a start though, and they're off the street. I don't know if Pastor Rodriguez was able to play a part in getting them some help or not, but I'll find out when I see him next time.
I ended up seeing John Stokes next. He was back at his spot under the freeway off of Olympic and Alameda. The last time I saw him he was trying to get together enough money to buy a tent. Apparently, he wasn't able to come up with enough for a tent, but he did come up wih some carpeting that served as a floor and a couple of walls for his 'house' Sunday. I ended up giving him the last sleeping bag I had. He was very appreciative. Tuesday, May 3rd, is his birthday, he will be 63 years old. One of the gratifying things about our relationship that is almost 2 years old now, is that every time I see him he asks me to pray for him. Not too far from where John was I looked for Willie, whom I haven't seen in a while now. I couldn't find him Sunday either, but while I was in that area I found "T". (No not Mr T.) When I told him my name was John he said, "Well, that's my last name." "T" was from Baton Rouge, Louisiana and had five brothers. He also had a grandmother he loved very much. He was quite talkative and since it was pretty warm at that point and he had been working (looking for recyclables) he was thirsty and needed the water I had. I told him I'd look for him again next time when I was down there.
On the other side of town by Pico and Olive streets I recognized Dalton. He was sitting under some shade on the curb on Pico Blvd eating something for lunch (I'm not sure what it was). When I commented to him that it was a nice day to be sitting under a tree having a 'picnic' he said, "It's a beautiful day." It always amazes me how so many of the homeless people I meet can take pleasure in some of the simplest joys they experience, like a nice day, especially in lieu of the many pressing needs they have.
After taking a break at the Jack in the Box on Alameda I headed down to the skid row area. As I drove by 7th and Los Angeles streets I saw Jerry (the man with one eye) sitting on his spot there by the corner. I found a place to park around the corner and a couple of blocks down and walked back to where he was. I had brought a small bag of food (a couple of cans of beef ravioli and some cookies) and gave them to him as I said, "Hey, Jerry how ya' doin." I guess Jerry doesn't see too well with the one eye that he does have but he recognized my voice. I had given him a bag of food the last time I saw him and so he said, "You're the guy from the church, I recognize your voice." I was kind of disappointed that he didn't want me to sit next to him because it would mean people wouldn't be giving him any money while I was there. He had a cup that he would shake and people would drop coins and dollar bills into it. I respected his situation and stood back out of the way and observed what was going on for about twenty minutes. Jerry did pretty well
collecting coins from people as they walked by. It is a very busy intersection with a lot of foot traffic. It is on the outskirts of the garment district which has a lot of people walking around just about every day of the week. One young man passing by gave Jerry a hard time about using his handicap to get people to give him money. I didn't want to intervene, but I felt like asking the man what his handicap was (besides lack of compassion). As the time of my standing there drew to a close, I asked God what I could say to Jerry as I left. I wanted to leave Jerry with something besides the food in the bag, something of lasting value. Within a short time it came to me what to say. I walked up to
Jerry (on the wrong side because I startled him) and put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Jerry, I have to go now, but make sure you don't forget to feed your soul too, OK? I'll see you next time." With that I left and crossed the street intending to go on down to 6th St. After crossing the street, I stood there for a minute or so and looked back at Jerry. Then I crossed over to the other side of Los Angeles St and then back across 7th until I was on the corner directly across the street from him. That's when I took the picture on the right with my cell phone. It's too far away to really see what Jerry's 'handicap' is. The right side of his forehead/skull and eye area are sunken in quite a bit, like he had been crushed in some kind of an accident. Jerry had stood up a couple of times while I was behind him and I'm guessing him to be about 6' 1"-2" tall. I'm going to have to come up with some other innovative way of talking with Jerry besides just basic greetings. Perhaps I could take him to lunch some time. I don't know just yet, but I want to figure out a way to reach him. Please pray that something develops here. I walked on down to 6th and prayer-walked the skid row area. I ended up praying with a couple of people there. I'm not really sure yet, but a couple of people acted like they recognized me. Perhaps, the persistance in going there is starting to pay off and people there are not surprised to see me anymore. One interesting thing that happened, was while walking back to the car on 7th St. a policeman about 20 feet ahead of me was picking up something on the sidewalk. As I got to where he was and asked him what he was picking up he said, "You know what it is." I had a pretty good idea what it was, small white rocks of crack cocaine that someone had thrown away in trying to get away from him. His police car was parked around the corner in the middle of the street with the lights flashing. I guess he was in the middle of a situation so I didn't try talking with him further. I'm sure this is a scene that happens several times a day around there.
I left the skid row area and drove up to the alleys where I used to see Tara Lee and Willie. I drove down those alley's a couple of times Sunday, but no one was there except Tony on the last trip. Tony is a friend of theirs and said they might be showing up Sunday night or Monday for a few days. I'll keep checking next week.
In that same area I happened to drive by John Mellon and his girlfriend Dawn. They were on 14th Pl. by Griffith St. I had never seen John at this location before and found out they had lost all their stuff recently. While they were away from their spot one of the businesses in the alley where they stayed had taken away all their stuff. It was a clear message that they wanted them to move, because nothing else in the alley was disturbed! Dawn was most upset that the blanket I had given her was gone. She referred to the blanket as her 'snugglie'. I was able to supply them with the usual; socks, shirts and yes another blanket. John commented as I pulled up that they had just been talking about me and how they wished I would come by. Talk about the Lord leading!!!
Well, it was time to head over to Cloud Nine Alley. After parking and walking over to the south end of the alley I saw my friend Gary there picking up a few odds and ends. He had his bicycle with him and it looked like he was getting ready to leave. He was happy to see me, although I could tell he was not happy about something. I commented that he seemed kind of bummed out and he told me that a couple of days before he had gotten into an argument with one of the managers of the businesses in that alley. Gary does odd jobs for some of the businesses there and this particular one, although he's on good terms with the owner, the manager doesn't seem to want him around. I listened to him tell me what happened and share his feelings of disappointment about it. It just so happened that I had witnessed a similar example of someone losing it a day or so before and how it made for an uncomfortable situation to be around even though I wasn't involved in the problem. I remembered how in Hebrews the author talks about how Jesus, our High Priest, was a man and faced the same things we face and how he was not unfamiliar with how we felt. When we prayed together I asked the Lord to watch over our hearts because they were wounded over these experiences and needed His comfort. Gary was right there with me on the same page as we prayed. It was a wonderful heartfelt moment we shared together. I learned from Gary that there are now a couple of other people living around the alley. One is Fred who seems to be in and out of jail due to drug related problems and a woman named Lily who built a little shack in a vacant lot between the alley and Main St. I'm looking forward to meeting up with these people now too. Until next week. --John

P.S. May marks the end of the second year that I've been going downtown. I hope to make a short 3 or 4 minute video in one of the alleys very soon and posting it here on the blog to mark the occasion. Monday night my wife and I were in the San Fernando valley. As we drove home at around 10 p.m. we passed by downtown at night. All the buildings were lit up and it really looked beatiful. It made me think, though, of all the people I've met in the last two years who live in the 'shadows' of these buildings and pretty lights and how tonight they're living and sleeping right down there again. Hopefully, I touched some lives there, I know they've touched mine.