Month: March 2013

SCOTTY Lost His Stick

Not seeing well, but clear headed, now, Scotty needed his stick. He doesn’t see, well. He has social skills, but limited physical ones. People take advantage of him; stealing his money, getting him drunk, not listening to his needs. He thought that someone had stolen his stick, because he gets special treatment.

So. when I attempted to shoot him, he resisted. “Haven’t you taken enough pictures of me?” No. “I have to find my stick. Where’s City Hall? I might have left it in the bathroom.” We walked. We talked. I had to hold him. He stumbled. Not a photo shoot.

He remembered, with help from Matt Young, that he may have left it in the bathroom at City Hall, but he wasn’t sure. Had to stop at the bathroom, where e inquired of a guy taking a shit, by peeking over the divider. Not shocked, the shitter said, “not here” We went to the Office of the City Attorney, a stop I needed to set up an appointment with Richard Haessler. He’s not there. Scotty is getting shakey. Well dressed people in the hall, black and briefcases,  looked away from us, more interested in their pitch to whomever in City Government they needed to reach. Again, not pictures. Only Scotty, Not sure why?

SCOTT

 

 

 

But we found his stick.

 

 

 

Dave Parker Works Hard At Life

So, his adult life has not been on easy street. Spent less time free, than not free. Cannot find work. Doesn’t have an education. Basically disabled because he can’t do whatever there is to do and no one would hire him anyway. He stands, asking for small bits of change. Cops kicked him off the ramp coming off I91, because of danger to himself and drivers. But what could they do to him? Put him in jail?

No easy answers.

Church Street Welcomes Spring 2013

Not much traffic recently on Church Street. People in jail. People in motels. People in programs. Some people hanging out on couches. Others, who knows. One warm day and they hit the streets. Not to say they lost contact. Just followed enough dramas. Ready to go full blown, getting in and out of who knows how much trouble, again.

Dave just got good news about his claim for benefits. He may have more trouble keeping the money than getting it.

Larry’s girlfriend broke up with him last night. He said he had a heart attack. But they let him out for breakfast.

Dennis Terrible had to go to jail to sleep it off. Too drunk for the hospital. He got kicked out of the hoosegow. Walked back to Church St.

Tommy needed a dollar. Dave gave him the dollar I had just given to him. We call that the trickle down in Burlington.

Tommy must have spent his money. Sitting on Church Street, holding a sign that says “Homeless and Hungry. Anything Helps. Thank You.” If you cannot read it, its because he doesn’t write big. People cannot sit on the street, begging, without signs. He knows his First Amendment rights, Tommy does.

She’s homeless and hungry.

I bought a Powerball ticket. Who knows?

 

 

Jim Thayer Nears His End


Usually, when I walk down Church Street, elation fills my heart when a person who hasn’t been around for a while finds me. Jim is one of the guys whose smile always brightens my day.

During an early winter cold spell, I carried a sleeping bag around for days looking for him. Our schedules sometimes don’t coincide, me being an early morning person, while he sometimes roams until late at night and then sleeps in or out, depending on the weather. Jim said he’d been around, just not at the same time as me. I must have missed his decline.

 

Last time I shot him and his daughter Amanda was Christmas morning. They were on their way to a meal at Junior’s, an annual food event for street people. Both seemed a little beaten down. She’s away right now. People say she was doing OK for a while. I saw him again in mid-January. He was talking with a cop about something. I gave him a dollar, staring without talking, before moving along. Enough drama. Didn’t know if he was engaged in a social or investigative conversation.

But, on St. Patrick’s day, as he waited for the parade of Ireland Cement Mixers, we chatted. He looked awful. Even the days in the past when he had been carousing and not taking care of himself, he had a sense of life. He had helped people who had fallen or who couldn’t take care of themselves, like Paul O’Toole. Out early, he would pick up litter in City Hall Park. He told jokes and stories. Had a high sense of morals and etiquette. Got pissed if you didn’t greet him and upset if he missed you. Today, he answered the question, “how are you,” with “… not too good. Doctors say I don’t have a chance.” He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, though I asked several times.

He refused my offer to buy him a new coat. “Not going to be needing a new coat where I am going.” Turned down my open offer to do anything which would make him more comfortable or happy. “No need. I have been all the places I needed to go and done all I wanted to do. Just waiting for the end.” Damn. I took a dollar out of my wallet and offered it to him. He refused and then reached into his pocket, took out a silver dollar. “Here Duck. You take this dollar. Its for all the dollars you have given me over the years.” “I don’t need your dollar,” I said. “Then give it to someone who does. When was the last time a homeless person gave you a dollar?’ I took it.

 

Hadassah Burlington VT – Chai Tea

 

Hadassah of Burlington, VT, Sara Frank Chapter, celebrated Chai Tea at the home of Suzanne Brown in Shellburne. Kosher Katz, an A Capella group from the University of Vermont, sang three tunes, adding melody and nachas from the next generation of powerful Jewish women.

Tea was poured.

A Presidential message.

Honoring Chai Society, chapter benefactors.

A raffle.

Stella, 98 years old, heralds the past, present and future state of American Judaism and the satisfaction of contributing to Tikkun Olum.

A prayer from Rabbi Jan.

And too much cake and crustless sandwiches. So, what else is new?

Burlington City Council Does Democracy

So, they have an election for School Board in Ward 1. I don’t live there and have neither a candidate in the race, nor an interest in the outcome. The write-in candidate received 253 votes. The incumbent received 257. The write-in guy is black. The incumbent is white. Under our system of government, a Civil Board of Authority made up of the Mayor and City Council recount the ballots and certify the election results. Some who would do the count openly urged the incumbent to withdraw, citing a need for more diversity on the Board, amongst other things, but he didn’t. In full view of all who wanted to watch, they counted the ballots the old fashioned way, one by one. No kidding or horsing around. Maybe not something worthy of a white wisp of smoke, but an exercise in democracy which enhances our belief in government. Each gained a vote in the final tally. Democracy gained more; its all about voting, casting a vote and counting it. The rest is politics.

 

 

Burlington Food Shelf

What would you do if you didn’t have food to eat or friends who would feed you? Where would you go? What would you eat? Where would you sit? Whom would you know?

I went there to find out. Arrived late, 10:00ish. Breakfast over. Lunch in the bins. Grab a tray and a plate. Point. Noodles and ham. Mac and cheese. Something else. Not much green. Hard boiled eggs from breakfast. Got reprimanded for taking a muffin without using the tongs. Won’t do that again.

Knew a few people from the street. Didn’t want to intrude or take pictures. One guy asked why I haven’t delivered him his print. Hadn’t seen him. I wish I had been carrying it.

Sat at a table that had a tray with two empty plates. A guy sat down next to me, facing the food service area. “Only two rules, here, it is not like a Seder. Don’t take food with your hands and don’t ask for seconds if you haven’t finished your firsts.” Jewish guy named Everett. Knew George Solomon. Wouldn’t let me take his picture. Likes movies, old moviesLives in his car, except when the temperature goes to zero. “”11 years in my car. Guess that means I ain’t that homeless.”

 

Guy Lafountain on Church Street

Not everyday I meet a person who has a street named for them. But, then again, hard to be in Vt and not meet a Lafountain.

 

Guy once hung out on the street all the time. Knows everyone. You cannot tell a Lafountain that you know another Lafountain or you will spend the next hour doing family geography. They abound in Vt. I mentioned this to the person who introduced me and Guy. I told him that I was a Public Defender in Rutland, Middlebury and Burlington. “Oh, you must know ….” We all laughed. Guy decided life was worth living better at some point. He volunteers at Recycle North or some other place dealing in resyclables, walks around, happy to be whom he is. He says he feels productive. No more hanging out.

Jack Lavery Doesn’t Vote

Jack Lavery defines himself as the “laziest person in Burlington.” He didn’t vote today, because “those bastards promise to do things and then they never do anything.”

 

I voted, because if you don’t vote, the right to vote and the importance of voting will disappear. One incumbant ran. Vince. Don’t know him. Have watched him at City Council Meetings. He looks sincere, sounds sincere, and wants the job. I don’t know if his politics are mine, he is a neighborhood guy, so I voted for him. Don’t have kids. Don’t understand the school budget. Dont’ know what the others running for office do or why they want the job. And, while I don’t want the land ripped apart for energy, how a position letter advances my cause helps the issue escaped me. Did I say I voted?

Mollie Has a New Sign


Mollie keeps trying. She has obstacles to conquer. Needs a place to live and a job, not to mention some support. She isn’t giving up and could use a break. Day after day she stands on the street, doing what she has to do. Got to give her some credit for the effort, though some people are less sympathetic to her than others.

Karl had his hips fixed. He is up and walking. Probably should be giving his hips more time to heal, but doesn’t like to be kept down. Shane says he could get a job as a nutritionist; he cannot fight the system, because he doesn’t have formal training. No way either can help Mollie, except to be supportive.

Scotty has a cane which he doesn’t use. He says that he sees shapes and doesn’t like looking down.