Last (and only) post was 3 years ago? Shame on me. It's amazing what can happen in 3 years time. While my own life's events have not rocketed me forward on the road to success and happiness, (Quite the opposite really) I feel that I can't complain. I'm rebounding fairly well from a rather tumultuous few years. Since my ancient post, my mother passed away, I was laid off from work, I lost my house, I fell off the weed wagon after leaving it alone for a decade, I got mixed into the wrong crowd where crime & drugs were the lifestyles of many, I nearly got mixed into some of their bullshit but managed to escape it before I got too deep, I slept in my truck for a few months during a cold winter at the worst of times, and when I was pretty well past rock bottom, after my transmission went out and I couldn't afford to fix it or even renew my tags, the truck was towed away.
During my downward spiral I met a heroin addict who wanted to go to a rehab facility out of state, but needed someone to house-sit for him. The house was a pig-sty as you might imagine, dishes in the sink that had probably been moldering for months, dirty needles & empty food cartons from one end of the house to the other, the toilet didn't work, there was a flood of six inches of raw sewage backed up in the basement, a previous tenant had scrapped the wiring harness from the furnace as well as the stove and refrigerator... So why not, better than the truck right? So I stayed there for a while and spent my time cleaning it out, and sanitizing it. I went to the local mission every day for a dose of the gospel and a meal, and if I had to use the bathroom, I had to walk half a mile to Wendy's until some genius stripped the plumbing there for scrap metal, causing them to adopt a policy of locking the bathroom door, with the key available for paying customers only. So then my daily business necessitated a mile walk to Taco Bell.
That Mission I'm pretty sure saved my life. God bless you Ken & thank you for everything! Between his daily sermons & bible study three times a week, I realized that life was crappy for me because God was kicking me in the hind end for being such a screw up. Blessed is the man who accepts his Father's rebuke, and thank you Lord for taking the time with me. Once the spirit came back upon me I can only describe it as a feeling of being in love with a woman who loves you more, only better because its a pure love. Even the rainy days are inspiring when you can walk and see His hand in everything.
After a time the landlord (slumlord) came by and was so happy with the improved state of his property that he even fixed the furnace & put in a new toilet. living with no heat I had adjusted to, but man having your own toilet is a blessing all in it's own. After a time that Wonderful Counselor came to me again and bid me head south. So putting myself into his hands, with only a couple changes of clothing in a trash bag and no money in my pocket I started walking.
I believe my faith that there was a plan despite my not knowing what it was gave me the strength to make the journey. After a day and night of walking I was exhausted and dehydrated. I knocked on a stranger's door and asked if I could trouble them for water. They were kind enough to give me 2 bottles, which I was extremely grateful for, as I could refill them along the way. So on again I went. After the second day I threw out most of the clothing I had originally set out with as it seemed to be getting heavier with each step. I had open blisters on my feet, the weather was unseasonably hot for that time of year, and for food I was quite literally eating garbage. I had found on the second day a half-eaten peanut butter energy bar that someone had seemingly tossed out the window as they drove down the country road. I had to brush off the ants, but I was thankful for it.
I was originally laying down at night-time to try and sleep, but discovered this to be not the best idea. the nights were cold, and the damp dew covered ground proved difficult for any kind of restful sleep. So I began napping during the heat of the day and keeping warm at night by walking. I was extremely hungry, and found on the ground an Arby's bag with a few curly fries and a lot of condiment packets. Charged with ketchup and horsey sauce I moved on again. On the morning of the third day I had reached Sharonville. It was Sunday, so I decided to go into the first church I came across that was holding service. I can't remember now if it was a Presbyterian or Methodist church I went to but it was one of the two. It was really nice, and they even had some free snacks afterwards. Starving as I was though, I had to really force myself to contain myself to just a small handful of cookies, as I didn't want to seem like a starving mongrel despite feeling like one.
Continuing on, I probably went another 10 miles. Found a chicken sandwich that didn't seem to have been laying around too long & ate it, but I think the mayonnaise had started to turn a bit, and I had to find a bathroom within maybe half an hour. Eventually I came to a fire station with a fireman chillin' outside, and I asked him if he knew of any shelters in the area, and he told me I had just passed one a couple blocks back. I went to the place he told me about, but the door was locked, nobody answered the buzzer, and it looked pretty well deserted inside. So I turned around & started walking back toward Cincinatti.
After going a few blocks I heard a voice calling to me from the bushes alongside a train overpass. "Hey buddy, you homeless?" Was it that obvious? I looked into the bushes to see who was calling to me. An older guy, about 55 & bearded came stumbling out to greet me. "Yeah" I replied. He introduced himself as 'Boxcar'. "You need a couple dollars?" before I could say anything he already had his money out and was shoving two bucks into my hand. "Come sit with me here & take a load off for a bit & have a beer with me."
Now as you can probably understand I was having reservations about the fellow despite his outward friendly demeanor, and alarms were faintly jingling in my head. But after my long trek, my feet were blistered, I was sunburnt, and my knees were pretty well close to jello. "In your hands, Lord" I said to myself as I followed him into his camp. He had a makeshift bench made from an old 2x8 and a couple cinderblocks, and we sat in the shade and chatted for a while. he gave me a beer which was really the last thing I needed given my condition, but what the heck, there were some calories in it I badly needed. He had a pitbull with him named Coal Train, a nice healthy looking friendly chap, eager for someone new to scratch his ears, and I was happy to oblige him. We sat & talked til near sunset, mostly him telling me of his adventures of a lifetime of riding the rails. How to spike a door on a boxcar to keep it from sliding shut on you as you tried to jump into a moving train, how if a train has 2 or more engines you can get into one of the aft engines & lock yourself into the bathrooom for a a comfy ride, etc.,
When it started getting late, I was surprised to learn he actually had an apartment nearby. So much for appearances, I had assumed he was homeless himself. Apparently despite having his own place, a lifetime of living outdoors made some habits hard to break. He invited me to his place for some wings & a place to crash on his floor. What the heck, I really couldn't get much further anyway. So I went with him, and after a bit of food & TV he put some blankets down for me. "I'm ready for bed," he announced, "please dont leave before I get up, or steal anything." That really didn't need to be said, but in these days you really never know. In the morning I got a shower & he gave me a fresh change of clothes to wear. The pants were about 4 sizes too big in the waist, but I had a belt, so it was all good. We then got on a bus to go downtown. I was going to put the 2 bucks he gave me into the farebox, but it was broken, and the driver waved me past. Cool. He had some personal business to attend to, and I went with him, and afterwards he walked around downtown with me & showed me all the places I needed to know about. The library, a handful of places to eat for free, and most imprtantly, the Drop Inn Center, an emergency homeless shelter.
Now I had never had to stay in such a place before, and wasn't sure what to expect. I will never forget Boxcar & will always be grateful for him for going out of his way to help me out. 'The Drop' as everyone called it was an interesting place to say the least. It was sort of like boot camp, only there was no PT, and almost all the 'recruits' were suffereing from one form of chemical dependency or another.
Okay, that I guess ends my journey, I omitted the day where I was picked up by police on the first night & had to spend the night in jail to clear a traffic warrant, but nobody really needs to know about that. Oh wait, oops.
