Homeless With Beautiful Blue Eyes

A good friend is helping organize an outreach to Monroe's homeless population this weekend. Over the past few days we've bounced around all sorts of ideas for non-perishable food and personal items to include in "Survival Sacks" they'll be handing out. All this talk of the homeless brought back memories of when I had a homeless couple living in my van out back behind my building in Monroe.

Back then, I had a building directly on the river and next to the railroad bridge that crosses over to West Monroe. It was right in downtown Monroe. I lived in a loft apartment upstairs and had my business downstairs. My "yard" had lots of foot traffic with folks either crossing the railroad bridge or getting to the other side of the seawall. Quite a few homeless lived on the other side of the seawall when the water wasn't too high. For years, I'd given food packets to the homeless. Not wanting to enable any addiction, I couldn't give them money but was always ready to give them food.

As I saw it, I was called by my Lord to feed them. That meant either giving them food or taking them somewhere to eat. One or the other. Some of the regular homeless guys in downtown Monroe came back from time to time asking for more food. I could tell they were hungry and sincere. They were really appreciative, too.

Downtown Monroe at night isn't the safest place in Ouachita Parish. Even though I hadn't had any problems at my building, it was still creepy sometimes. One evening, just past sundown, I headed out to get a bite for supper. I parked my truck around back and headed out the shop door, out of view from the street. Maybe twenty five or thirty feet outside my shop door was my old Ford van. It was my hippie van from high school and college days, saved in hopes of swapping the engine and other stuff into a street rod. Stepping outside through the rear dock door, I saw a dark figure of someone stepping out of my van.

Crap!!!!

The van was supposed to be locked! I was unarmed and just a few feet away from a fairly large stranger getting out of my van. And it was getting dark. Just then, I heard a man's voice. "I'm not a bad man. I'm just down on my luck and need a place to stay."

Somewhat calmed but still a bit cautious, I moved closer as the guy stepped out of the van, introducing himself as Roger. He stood a couple of inches taller than me and was slender with dark, wavy hair. With a quiet voice, Roger told me he was working but just didn't have enough money for rent yet. I explained that I had just lost the building to bankruptcy and that I'd be moving soon, too. Back then I was running back and forth between Monroe and El Dorado taking care of my mother whose health had started to fail.

"Hey, in a way, I'm homeless, too!" I joked and we both laughed. "All I ask is that y'all keep an eye on the place when I'm gone. You're welcome to stay." It was fall and the nights had begun to get a bit chilly. I asked if he needed a blanket or anything. He said he'd be fine.

The next morning, I assembled a bigger than usual packet of non-perishable food... Vienna sausages, raisins, fruit cups, crackers, bottled water and moistened towelettes. Stuff like that. It felt funny knocking on the door to my own van, but Roger opened the door. I handed him the food and he said "We really appreciate it." We? Just then, he opened the other door and I met Crystal.

I'd seen her walking around downtown before, usually carrying a styrofoam box, the kind you get with take-out food, always coming from the direction of the Salvation Army and heading across the seawall. She appeared to be in her 40's, a bit plump with medium length blond hair. I'd always tried to make eye contact and wave but here eyes were always glued to the street a few feet in front of her.

She moved forward closer to the door and for the first time, I saw her beautiful blue eyes. She wasn't necessarily pretty but here eyes were piercing blue. Whoever named her Crystal pegged the name in describing her eyes. She thanked me for the food and then asked with deep compassion in her voice about my mother. I guess Roger had told her my story as well. We chatted a while and I headed on out for the day.

I'm still haunted by those beautiful blue eyes.

Roger and Crystal stayed in the van for a few months. We'd wave and exchange pleasantries as I'd see them coming and going. We never hung out or anything, but they really did take care of the place. In time, I guess he saved up enough to get a place of their own and they moved out of the van.

No longer were they just two homeless people. They were Roger and Crystal. And in a small way, they looked out for me and I looked out for them. Nice neighbors.