Taylor Hall Coming of Age

Tayler_Hall

 

Trying to build a portrait photography business in Burlington. People don’t spend money on such things unless they go to high school or get married. I don’t have money for a studio or advertising or professional quality lighting. Spent too much going to school and then the market dropped. So, I came up with a promotional idea. Donated a portrait shoot, a headshot and a digital image, at a screening of  Tatoo Nationa movie about how prison tatooing in California started the tatoo boom. Wouldn’t you know it, a kid who wanted a tatoo won the raffle. He doesn’t have ink. But he wants to become a musician. Right now he fights some demons, but he feels as though he is headed in the right direction.

Ramy Still Grieves

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You had a life to live forward to and then the guy dies. Wasn’t tough enough before him; now you got to move on alone. People keep records and tell stories. You got dignity and pain. Sometimes they cancel out, leaving you who knows where. But everyday you got to take your beauty into the street with your head hung high and smile.

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And, sometimes, you have to maintain the mystery!

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Pathway Out of the System

 

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Just one way out of the Courthouse. Always a good day when you can leave through a front door. The rest of life’s problems could be simple, but they are not.

amanda

Amanda’s carrying the burden of her father’s sickness and trying to stay clean and sober. She looks great and sounds positive.

larkin

 

Larkin has a place and a relationship. Both need furnishing and care. He’s got a good heart.

molly

Molly has programs to attend and needs teeth. She is so happy to have her life back, too. Larkin protected her when they lived in the woods.

Brian

Brian says he spent time in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s out. Now, he needs a life. Hasn’t gotten help. He’s not sure he needs it. Who knows.

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Karl would be lost without the street. “Hey Duck, take this photo.” Never saw the people before. Young woman is a poet. She recited a poem she made up. He cut her off. Ending his physical therapy for hip repair. Has to get around with a chair. Vision going. How long he stays in his apartment is up in the air. Asked me if I knew of a place to live. Me? Why would anyone ask me about a place to live? People all jive him, without knowing what goes on. They play him, not taking the time to look beneath the shell. He acts like he’s Donald Trump, firing people. From what job? Who knows? Lives in another world, one where poets live. He will be more lost without a place to live. I told him to go to the hearing, deal with the bullshit and keep his apartment. Always have to show up. And it may mean missing a day on the streets. He’s got a pad full of problems and poems.

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.

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.