Chris is the second Army veteran I’ve met out on the street. He was sitting in front of Saks Fifth Avenue, fifty feet away from St. Patrick’s Cathedral. The flag you see in the picture extends from the front of the church. He was wearing a large crucifix so I asked him if he was Catholic and when he said he was, I asked him if he’d ever been inside the Cathedral. “I go in there at least four times a week to pray.”
He’s been homeless for a year and half. He had been working construction, hanging dry wall in New Jersey. He got laid off. He couldn’t pay his mortgage so his house was foreclosed. He lived in a Motel 8 for a few months until his money ran out. He’s been looking for steady work but his paperwork–birth certificate, social security card, identification–had been stolen and without the paperwork, it was difficult for him to find legitimate work. He mentioned that Caitlin from Breaking Ground was helping him to get his papers, the same woman who was helping Nicky.
He did not indicate anywhere on his sign that he had served in the military. I found out in the course of conversation that he was in the Army for a year, stationed at Fort McClellan in Alabama. I asked him why he joined. He said, “I was young. They offered me the world. They got their hooks into me.”
I asked him what he would want from God if God offered him anything he wanted. “To have a home and to be with my family, my mom and my three kids.” His family is in New Jersey. I asked him if they were fine and he said they were. I didn’t ask him why he didn’t just ask them for help or stay with him. I should have. He’s not the first person I’ve encountered out here who has family somewhere else. I don’t know why they don’t ask for help but I can imagine more than a few reasons. Perhaps the relationship had frayed so badly that the street was a better alternative. Or perhaps it is shame.
I asked him what he would want people to know about him. He answered, “I’m just like everyone else. I’m a decent human being. Just because something bad has happened to me doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.” To a person all the people I’ve asked this question want to emphasize that they are good people. They must think that many of the people who see them begging on the streets are judging them and condemning them, holding them in contempt. Are they wrong?