As I got closer to Los Angeles and knowing that I could be at either of the parks for an extended period of time I thought I'd first go down 7th St by the Greyhound Bus Depot. Across from the bus station is where Shoeless Marie sleeps on the sidewalk and a few other homeless people are usually around that area. When I drove down the street there were about 50 Greyhound Bus employees picketing in front of the bus depot and across the street. There was a signal light right in front of the station and most of the picketers were right there. Of course, as I drove up the signal turned red and I had to stop. I had the windows on that side of the car down and naturally one of them came up to the car wanting to give me a hand bill stating the grievances the workers have against the company. I decided if I'm to receive a hand bill of grievances then I'm giving them a gospel of John booklet!!! So the exchange was made and I drove on. About a block down the street I saw a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk on the corner. There were several yellow cabs parked down that street. I drove around the block and parked near them and walked over to the homeless man and started talking to him. We talked about the picketers and I asked him if he had seen Marie because I hadn't seen her in at least two or three months. He said he had seen her the night before and that she usually shows up around dark. I asked him if he thought she goes down to the missions during the day, but he said he didn't know where she went during the daytime. I ended up sitting on the sidewalk and talking with him for a while. His name was Timothy and he was from Cincinnati, Ohio. Then things turned really weird. He told me he was working for the slave nation (?) and was helping people avoid being killed or captured by aliens. He told me how non-human aliens and some humans are capturing and killing people and he and his people were "working" to help them however they could. He didn't say how. Interestingly, as we sat there and talked he appeared quite coherent and sane on the outside. There was no nervous twitching or even a far away look in his eyes with the acompanying sadistic laugh. It was really bizarre to say the least. I calmly asked Timothy under whose authority did he work. He told me "God". Nothing specific about which God or any other name, just "God". I had purchased some tracts to give out and I pulled out two different ones and put them inside a gospel of John booklet and as I handed them to him I said, "Well here's something about the God I serve. His name is Jesus Christ." Actually, I set them down on his blanket right next to him so he could easily see and read the cover. We talked for a couple more minutes and I finally said, "Let me pray with you before I go." I held his hand and prayed with him and walked back to the car. Since it was right across the street he was still in plain view as I drove away. He had picked up the booklet and was looking through it. I'm not sure if what I heard was him talking out loud or laughing (I heard something anyway) but I waved as I drove away and left the results up to "my God". This was a close encounter of "some" kind. Whether it was mental illness or demon possession I don't know. But that's how the trip started!!!
So now I drove over to the Pershing Square area. It took awhile to actually locate it (since it's raised up and kind of hidden) and find a place to park. I ended up in a parking lot across the street. I didn't recognize it at first but the parking lot was behind a building that my
Dad used to work in about 45 years ago. I loaded up my pockets with bible tracts and gospel of John booklets (I had on cargo shorts so I had a few deep pockets) and brought a book to read. I didn't want to take a bible with me because that can immediately be a turn-off for some people so I took with me a book of the journals from the missionary Jim Elliott. I walked across the street to the park and looked around a little. It wasn't quite what I expected. There were a lot of people sleeping (it was around noon by now) and the ones awake seemed to be in pairs. I found a shady place to sit down and read and pray and kind of get my bearings a little. About forty minutes later I got up and decided to walk around the perimeter of the park which is actually the sidewalk and come back inside later. As I got to the sidewalk I found a homeless man sitting with his shopping cart full of plastic bottles. I asked him if that's what he had collected that day. He told me most of it was yesterday (Sunday) but the recyclers were closed Sunday and for the Monday holiday. He was eating peanut butter straight out of a jar with a plastic fork. Before leaving my car I had looked around on the floor in the back and found two small packs of cookies. I gave one to him and he ate them right away. His name was Darrel Roberts (see photo). He was 54 years old and from Florida by way of
Cleveland, Ohio. Another Ohioan, I was hoping he wasn't from the 'slave nation'. Darrel was quite humble and I sat and talked with him for twenty minutes or so. He was a Vietnam Veteran (two tours at the end of the war) and had multiple physical problems from both the war and civilian life. Here was my kind of homeless guy that I love to talk with and pray with. Conversation was easy with Darrel. I told him I come downtown once a week and I usually have food and water to give out although I didn't today. However, I did have some socks back in my car. I told him I'd drive by this corner in a couple of hours after I got back to my car and I'd give him some socks if he was still there (he wasn't there). I walked around several blocks before making it back to the park. I let a young 20-ish looking man use my cell phone to call his Mother because he was lost. I talked and prayed with Alberto from Puerto Rico who was sitting on a bench. He told me he was disabled. I asked how he was disabled and he told me he was schizophrenic. He also was looking for his mother, Sharon Stone. Yeah, that Sharon Stone. I guess he was telling me the truth about his disablility. I also saw, would you believe it, Shoeless Marie. I even took a picture of her but I once again forgot to save it. She was barefoot as usual. I couldn't believe she was this far from where she sleeps. I offered her the other pack of cookies but she turned it down. Go figure. When I got back to the park I was rebuffed by one man who didn't want to talk to anyone but ended up eventually talking with a young woman who had been studying in the park. The public library is just down the street but was closed for the holiday. Her name was Azaelia and she was from the east coast. She wasn't homeless but I got the feeling that she didn't have many friends out here. At this point I left the park and went back to my car. I drove by the Union Station park but there was something going on at Olvera St and it looked like most of the people in the park were mostly spill-over from Olvera Steet. So I drove over to 18th and Broadway by the I-10. This is my turf and here's what happened there.By now it's about 3 p.m. I immediately saw one homeless guy by an alley where I've helped many men before and on the other side of the street another guy holding up a homeless sign asking for 'donations'. I drove around the block and parked by the alley and got out and took a picture of the alley with my cell phone (see photo). I did this as an excuse to talk to the guy standing there next to the alley with his shopping cart. His name was Jonathan from Witchita, Kansas. He was 44
years old. He told me he lives in the alley now but had to wait another hour and a half before he could settle down for the night because the warehouse there was still open for business. I ended up giving him the socks and T-shirt that I had saved for Darrel. When I did that, the guy from across the street came over to ask for help too. His name was Thomas. I gave him some socks and a T-shirt too. I prayed with both of them right there by the trunk of my car. They both were very appreciative. Thomas turned around and saw a woman walking down the street that he knew and said she could use some help. He called her over to us. Her name was Jackie. I ended up giving her some socks, shoes and jeans. It was an incredible 10 minutes. Jonathan made a point of taking me aside and thanking me again for helping him. I told him I'd come back next week and watch for him again.With this I left and went home. It wasn't quite what I had hoped for in the park. The most fulfilling moments for me were helping the homeless people and praying with them and none of them were in the park. After all, praying with the homeless is what was missing from last week's trip and caused me so much disappointment. The core of this ministry is praying with people. Getting to that point requires me taking the time with each individual encounter so they know God cares specifically for them. I'm sure if I go back to the park consistently I'll get better at hooking-up with the people there and praying with them. By the way, in the book that I was reading Jim Elliot wrote, "Growth is accompanied by corresponding service....growth, ministry, growth, ministry. These two must come together to maintain balance..." He also wrote how disappointed he and some other friends were at the small turnout at one of their evangelistic meetings. It was a comfort to know that even the famous are disappointed at times and must work past it. I'm learning. --Until next week. John
Interesting blog with great content.
ReplyDeleteOne thing though: "It is a comfort to know that even the famous are disappointed at times..." When Jim Elliot made those comments he was not famous. He became famous because of his death.
Jesus reminds us that "a prophet is without honor in his own country."
Keep on blogging and I pray that God will richly bless you and provide much eternal fruit.
Well Robert, you're right. He wasn't famous at the time he wrote of his disappointment. I didn't think of it that way. I noticed from some of your web information that you knew Jim when you were a youngster. I'd be interested to hear of your recollections. --John
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