Phil

I walked up to him and asked how he was doing. He responded the way anyone would, "OK". Then I asked again, with a more serious tone, "are you doing OK?" He answered with a more serious tone this time, "yeah, I'm doing alright".

I met Phil today. It wasn't a chance meeting, it was on purpose. I have seen him before, standing on the corner with a cardboard sign that says "Please help. thanx". He wears a copy of his Honorable Discharge around his neck. He wears glasses that he says the VA got for him a while back. He has no teeth. The VA also pays for his prescription. He didn't offer what the prescription was for and I only asked if he was sick, to which he answered, "yes". Several years ago, he had a stroke and was hospitalized for 27 days. He had to learn to walk and talk again. He was in a hydrotherapy program to literally help him get back on his feet. He said he knew if he couldn't learn to walk again, he would be dead sooner than later.

He was in the Army in '56-'57, stationed at Fort Ord California. He made it up to E-3 or Private First Class. At that time, a lot of his fellow soldiers were being deployed to Germany. He felt he had done well but was being passed over for some reason. When he asked his commander, he was told he had the lowest test scores of anyone he had ever seen. Phil had only made it to 5th grade in school. He was brought up on the streets of Seattle. He joined the Army because he heard they paid pretty good. After he was discharged, he thought about joining the Navy, but his wife became pregnant again and that changed his plans. He did manage to take a college course and get his GED at some point after that.

I asked him if I could buy his lunch. He smiled and kind of thought out loud to himself, "I don't know what I could eat"(no teeth). He had a bag on the ground that someone had brought him with a small amount of groceries in it, bananas, cereal and other things like that. At that point, a lady walked up with another bag of food for him. He identified her as "someone who brings me stuff". I asked him if he does OK for himself, as far as being able to get food on a regular basis. He said that he did most of the time.

I asked how he ended up here. He started to say he moved to San Jose and lived here most of his life. I stopped him and said, "no, how did you end up on the street"? He very candidly answered that he made some really bad choices with alcohol and pushed most of his family away because of it. The family goes away, but the bills don't. He ended up drinking away everything he had and lived in his car for a while. He now lives "in the storage yard" up in Milpitis. "They don't have no "hook-ups" for nothing, but it's usually warm at least." I don't know exactly where he stays there, but it is some form of shelter from the cold.

Phil has two daughters, one of them is on speaking terms with him, but apparently offers no help. I don't know any of the story behind that. The other daughter, "is on her mother's side in all this. She feeds her all kinds of bad stuff". I told Phil that I understood strained family relations and one side pitted against the other. I agreed with him that it is a shame when the family disintegrates like that. I didn't go there to make him feel worse, so I quickly changed the subject.

I offered to buy him a coffee to which he readily accepted. I walked to a nearby coffee shop and asked the guy working if someone like Phil walked in, would they allow him to stay. I have seen places that shun homeless people from even entering the establishment and I wanted to ensure this didn't happen to Phil. He was clean and appeared decently taken care of, but having the sign and probably being known as "that homeless guy", I was just making sure he would be welcome. I purchased a coffee and a gift card. The guy gave me the coffee for free because he thought what I was doing was a good gesture. I appreciated that very much. I picked out some condiments, napkins, etc. and walked back to Phil. He thanked me for the coffee and put the other stuff in his pocket. I held out the gift card and told him where he could use it and how much was on it. He was very thankful to me for that.

Phil is very open and honest. He answered everything I asked him without hesitation. We talked for about 20 minutes. In that 20 minutes, one person, other than the grocery lady, even acknowledged him. That was a young girl who simply said "Hi", as her mom drove out of the parking lot. I know it's easy to overlook people in this situation, I have done it countless times, with intent. I fully realize that time is often our self-perceived, most valuable commodity. I don't think I did anything today that really changed Phil's way of life at all. I didn't offer him a way out of his circumstances. I didn't leave him with a place to sleep or new clothes to wear. I think what I did do, was to let him know that someone saw him and cares about him. Maybe that made his day a little brighter.

At 76 years old, chances are, his circumstances will never change. I hope that I'm wrong about that. He will probably live out his days left on this earth much like he is doing right now. He spoke of not being able to go back and change things, just having to start over. For too many people like Phil, I believe "starting over", especially at 76, involves waking up and heading back out on the street to try and survive one more day.

I told Phil if I saw him again and was at all able to, I would sit down with him and have a cup of coffee and talk some more. He let me know that he looked forward to that very much. There are a lot of Phils out there who would love to be able to sit down and talk over a cup of coffee, if only for a few minutes. If you ever get the chance, and want to make someone's day brighter, take the time.

Thank you Phil. Thank you for your service. Thank you for allowing me into your life for a moment.