meeting jack

 
My morning shoot was canceled at the last minute due to illness, and since I was already dressed and ready to go I decided to head down to the lakefront and enjoy the first coolish morning we’ve had in a very long time. It was early so almost no one was out except for an occasional fisherman and jogger, and I was really loving the solitude and peacefulness. I’d walked for a good while when I looked across the street from the lake and noticed some interesting tree shadows against the side of a building that I thought might be photo-worthy. I crossed the street and walked toward the building to take a shot when I heard him. “Do I need to smile?”, the deep voice asked.

I hadn’t seen the figure sitting on a stairwell in the shadows and was startled, even slightly afraid, because I’d carelessly wandered into an area my mom would undoubtedly describe as “questionable”. I told the shadowy voice that I was only taking a few photo’s of the building and would be leaving promptly.

I took the shot, at the same time considering just how many blocks away I’d parked my vehicle and how quickly I could run if need be. And then I truthfully can’t explain what came over me as I looked in the lower right hand corner of my viewfinder and saw the shadowy figure head down, two small bags of his belongings beside him, and realized he was homeless. I walked over and asked if he needed anything.

Now I’m shy with strangers, and generally not given to such stupidity as walking alone straight into questionable situations with no one else within earshot. Not to mention I was carrying an expensive camera that could easily have been grabbed from me and pawned for enough money to set this guy up for many months. I have no logical explanation for my irrational behavior early yesterday morning. I can only say that from the moment this man looked up at me with his kind, incredibly pale blue eyes, I felt without a doubt that I was safe.

Jack is 67 years old and has been homeless for most of the last ten years. He is intelligent, articulate, thoughtful, and quick to point out he’s not, nor never has been a panhandler. He wasn’t so much wanting to tell me “his story”, as he was concerned with conveying to me the plight of the homeless in general. He asked questions about my life and was genuinely interested in what I was doing out this morning with my camera. And it was Jack, not I, who suggested that perhaps I could take his photograph and share with others this face of homelessness.

We’d talked for about 20 minutes when I said I should be going and asked him if he would be in the area for a while so I could return with some things for him. He was emphatic in letting me know this wasn’t necessary and repeatedly told me not to worry about him.

A couple of hours later I returned to the stairwell where I’d first seen Jack, didn’t find him there and was discouraged. But as I walked the surrounding area I noticed him and another man sitting at a picnic table at a nearby park. When I got close enough for him to recognize me as I was heading towards the table, he lit up in a way that truly surprised me, waving his arms enthusiastically, and calling out, “there she is, that’s Cynthia…….Cynthia!”. I’m not sure I can remember the last time someone was that happy to see me walking in their direction, and the good feeling of that moment will stay with me a very long time.

Meeting Jack allowed me to see the face of homelessness in a personal way that I really hadn’t been able to previously. It can be disconcerting to come across people like him in the street, and all too easy to turn our heads away and imagine the self-inflicted problems that may have landed them there could easily be turned around if they so desired. But it’s our judging of another by our own narrow standards that separates us and doesn‘t solve anything. Jack is a child of God every bit as much as we who are sitting at our computers now in the warm comfort of our homes are.

The most moving aspect of meeting Jack yesterday came as I was leaving him the second time. I had brought food and other items I’d purchased that I thought he could use, and yet when I went to shake his hand in saying goodbye the oddest thing happened. He wrapped both his rough and weathered hands warmly around mine, looked me right in the eyes, and told me that my smiling at him had meant more than all those things I brought along with me.

I certainly don’t have the answers on how to fix the crisis of homelessness in our country, and did nothing to permanently alter Jack’s circumstances. But there was a moment yesterday when his day and my day was significantly brighter as a result of our unlikely intersection. We may feel powerless in our efforts to affect change in the world, but really we’re not. There is always *something* we can give that is exactly what someone else needs at any given point in time. Perhaps it’s just a smile.

~Cynthia

 
These are the shadows that drew me to the place where Jack was. He is there, although barely visible in the lower right hand corner of the image.

 

 

Jack spent the night in exactly this spot where I found him early yesterday, sleeping on the concrete landing of the stairs to the right. The nearest shelter is the Salvation Army, but at $12 a night it may as well be $200 as far as Jack is concerned.