The "River" People

As I sit here on my patio, I am reflecting on the night's events. I just spent an evening meandering among the distressed and disconsolate, the homeless that wander around downtown Montgomery. Two girls came up with idea to reach out to the dredges of society, the forgotten few…the homeless that seek refuge along the bank of the river near the train tracks. These are the people that we so often conveniently decide to forget. They are not in our neighborhoods and as long as they stay “down by the river” and out of our sight, we can sleep well at night in our air conditioned homes and clean sheets on a bed that is soft and comfortable. These two girls decided to break the comfort barrier that separates the haves and the have-nots and give backpacks filled with essentials, with the most important essential of them all being love for your neighbor.  And yes, Jesus would consider these homeless brethern his neighbor.  As I learned today, if you have some form of roof over your head, even a fabric one, you are one of the “haves”.  Even if that roof belongs to the city or the Salvation Army, you are a fortunate one, at least for the moment.

I went to places that I normally fear to go. In fact, I would fuss at my wife for a month if I ever found out she was out walking along the train tracks at night; especially down by the river. Who would wander the downtown train tracks along the river late on a summer evening? That is for the derelicts of society. But this two hour project was something that I signed up for and I needed to hurry up and get it done so I could get back to my comfort and relaxation. After all, I needed my rest so I could arrive at my office and sit in my new leather chair the next day. I was thinking fast food later in the evening because I had not eaten anything since around three today. That is almost 4 hours without food. I was famished and somewhat concerned how the time spent on this little good-will project might interrupt my customary meal schedule.

Down the train tracks we go. Winding along the river bank, I met a man named Richard, a black man in his mid to late 60s sitting on a bucket along side the railroad tracks. He looked a bit like the folktale drawings on Uncle Remus. He didn’t have all his teeth God originally gave him, but he seemed to be making due with what he had left. He didn’t seem to be doing much when we drove up other than passing time. We introduced ourselves as he crossed the tracks once he noticed we were actually stopping and getting out of the truck. We offered him a backpack filled with essential items and he seemed taken aback without much to say. In fact, he said, “I don’t know what to say”. I let my 12 year old nephew present him with a pair size 11 Nike shoes. I asked my nephew to tag along in hopes that he would gain an added appreciation of all that he is blessed with. I was hoping this experience would offer him some new perspective that may someday make him a better person. I know that sounds presumptuous but I thought at least he could say he had one seen how homeless people live. We knew Richard needed shoes based on Andrew’s scouting report the day before. Andrew, a better man than me, makes an effort to befriend the downtown less fortunate. He takes the time to really get to know them. When Richard opened the shoe box, he was immediately concerned about the size. He said they were too small. I asked his to try on the shoes and, he was right; they were a bit too small. I told him that I would swap them tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow I will be able to find him again if I remember which bridge he sleeps under. It is not like there are house numbers on them. They all look alike to me.

After not finding anymore homeless people under any of the other bridges, we decided to trace the path from the salvation army to the train tracks along the river hoping to find a homeless wanderer coming back from a free meal at the Salvation Army. We did not find any. We tried Over-Look Park and noticed a few people wandering around. We didn’t want to offend anyone by asking if they were homeless. Some of them may have just been enjoying the park, so we decided to ease on over the Salvation Army down the road. We turned into the Salvation Army parking lot to immediately spot a shirtless man climbing out of a dumpster. I thouht he must be homeless or else he was most assuredly in a desperate situation to be climbing in and out of filthy dumpsters. Admit it; you can’t stand the smell of a dirty dumpster. It is a sickening smell. As we pulled along side the dumpster he was not affected by our presence as he continued to dive in search of some discarded food that could make a meal. As we got out of the car, he exited the dumpster with a plastic bag filled with discarded dinner rolls. You could tell he was sorting the good from the bad as there were many bad rolls on the ground outside the dumpster. We introduced ourselves and he was very accommodating without any shame for his actions or shirtless apperance. This was a normal day for him. He was friendly and talkative. His name was Tim. I asked him where he was from and he said up north. He continued to tell us that he liked the Alabama weather better. I asked if he was on the streets and he said yes and had been living that way for some time. We told him that we were from Saint James and were were looking to spread the love of Christ. He implied he knew of Christ by stating that he had heard of Him. I asked him if he knew why Jesus came to live among us and he was not really sure. At that moment, I knew what I needed to do. I had prepared for years for moments just like this. Any good Christian would begin to recite the ABCs of salvation. Admit you are a sinner, believe that Jesus died to a pay a debt you could not pay, and confess your sins and repent. That is what Tim needed to hear. But why did I botch it so badly this time? It is not like this was my first opportunity. I proceeded to share the Good News that Christ delivered in a really confusing manner. I think I may have even confused myself.  Tim was intenly listening and nodding. We prayed a prayer of salvation and asked that God use the coming days to impact his life. There was no immediate weeping, joy, or shouting. There was no acceptance of Christ that was observable. We didn’t take him to the nearest puddle of water and baptize him. We may never know if he was truly listening or if he was simply appeasing us….only God knows. I hope that we planted a seed that God will nurture; we told Tim that we loved him. I am not sure when the last time was that he heard that. At least he heard it tonight. We moved on ahd so did Tim.

We wandered our way to the front entrance of the Salvation Army to find two ladies and a man kind of camping out. The reason I say camping out is because what else are you doing at the Salvation army at 7:00 pm when the place closes at 4:30? The ratty blanket laying on the front stoop kind of gave it away as well. We introduced our selves as Saint James members out on a mission project wanting to share the love of Christ. These were some really nice and friendly people. Not what I expected from the typical stereotype of homeless people that live down by the river. One lady was awaiting her eventual departure to Florida to be with family. We silently wondered what the holdup was. I mean, why is she here if she has family in Florida? I would like to think that if I was spending the night on the steps of the Salvation Army, my family would assist me in getting out of there. Surely they could scrounge up enough money for a bus ticket to get me home. Is that being presumptuous? Is that not the unwritten code of family? She seemed content and in good spirits….positive about her prospects.

The middle aged black gentleman that we met was obviously interested in our presence. He said he was looking for work, but had not had much luck. Now that just doesn’t make sense to a lot of folks. I mean, haven’t we all said at one time or another that there are plenty of “McJobs” available at McDonalds. I have always been of the opinion, why would the shift manger a McDonalds NOT want to hire any person as a dishwasher? After all, he is willing to work and is obviously capable of running a highly automated dishwashing machine like anyone else with a pulse. It is not rocket science. But then as I was processing all that I had witnessed this night, I thought, he has no address, no transportation to get to work, and no telling if he is carrying hepatitis or some other contagious affliction. It is just much easier to hire the next guy, the one with a real address and car. How many times have I said “those sorry good-for-nothings can go get a job a McDonalds washing dishes rather than bumming around waiting on a hand out”?  But give this a try next time you have nothing better to do. Walk into a McDonalds and apply for a dishwasher job. When you get to the part on the application that asks for your address, just write in “down by the river” and see how far that gets you. Also, tell them you have no transportation to get you form the river to work. Keep in mind that the river is the only place you can hang out without being picked up for loitering. Are the job prospects looking good thus far? That minimum wage check is on its way.

We also met a lady in one of those walker/wheel chairs. Let’s call her Amy as I do not want to use her real name. She looked out of place. Kind of like any one of my neighbors in my subdivision. She was initially concerned about us taking photos but eventually changed her tune a bit and actually smiled for the camera. She was also waiting on the Salvation Army to open its doors in about 12 hours or so. In the mean time, she was planning on fending off the mosquitoes as she waited out her turn to be the next special guest of the Salvation Army hospitality. (Note to self, homeless people sure could use some bug spray especially down by the river.) Amy was very grateful for the backpack we gave her. And she was especially grateful for the Bible contained within. Maybe she wanted us to think she was a Christian or maybe she really was. We did not ask the right questions. If she was anything like Tim, stating he was a Christian yet not knowing who Jesus really was, them I am worried for her soul. Either way, she attempted to persuade us that she was. I pray that we did not miss an opportunity to share the Good News. It is hard trying to spread the word of Christ yet avoid offending people. But isn’t that the logical reasoning people normally use when they choose to remain quite in these situations? Its just too hard. Maybe we should have been more aggressive. Then again, maybe we shouldn’t. As I told my brother –in-law as we were walking away, “we can’t save anyone, only God can….all we can do is plant the seed…God will nurture it in His time”.  Like I mentioned earlier, at first, Amy did not want her picture taken. She asked us to delete any photos we had taken. Then she thought about it and said it was ok. She said it would be good for others to see that even educated women could end up homeless due to circumstances. I did not inquire as to her education level. Maybe she had a sixth grade education and for her, maybe that was considered educated. Maybe she had a PHD in physics. I may never know. In any event, she considered herself educated beyond the normal “riverdwellwer that had no home”. For the moment, I nodded in agreement. Whatever she thought was ok by me. Later someone mentioned that they thought she had said she was a nurse at one time. That would certainly require some formal education. I wasn’t paying close attention to the conversation as I, for the moment, was contemplating the idea that I could be where she is with just a few unlucky breaks. If she was indeed educated (even if she was not) it didn’t matter. She was where she was at that moment. There was not a whole lot of difference between her and me. I could see myself sitting on that step right where she was…waiting on 7:00 am when the Salvation Army opened its doors for a new day. All it would really take is for me to have something like a health issue or some other bad break. Am I immune to bad breaks? Could I avoid the same fate?

I would never have seen these people had it not been for Andrew. For some reason, Andrew chooses to spend his time among theses “river people”, these railroad dwellers”, the people who sleep under bridges. He knows these people and they know him.

Because they know him so well, I can’t help but wonder about Andrew. Why does he spend his lunch hours riding his bike down the railroad paths? Why does he seek out these railway sitters along the tracks? Why does he know them by name and know there individual needs? Why does he choose to live in an old abandoned fire station that is right amongst them? Why does he spend his time, resources, energy, reputation, and hard earned dollars to convince to local government and community members to invest in community garden projects? Why does he have a vision of homeless people leaving the tracks and coming to these community gardens to till the earth to plant produce? Is he insane? Doesn’t he have a life? What is in it for him? I must say, that after observing Andrew for some time, I can’t answer any of those questions. All I can say is that he is different and he certainly not in it for himself. He takes an interest in things we so conveniently disregard as “out of my control”. Why worry about the river people? I rarely hear of them. When was the last time you watched the news and herd a story of a river person found dead on along the train tracks? I can’t remember ever hearing that.

Andrew is something else. He can expose you to a world that you have long forgotten about. Thank God Andrew has not forgotten. Jesus spent his time among the sinners and lepers. If you want to see Jesus Christ alive in someone, go spend an afternoon with Andrew. If you are breathing oxygen, you can’t help to walk away without seeing the active presence of Christ at work in him. Hmm, aren’t we all supposed to be that way? Is Andrew showing us the answer to the question “WWJD”?

The highlight of my day was walking away on my way home to my comfortable air conditioned house and reflecting on the evening's activities. Not so much the thought of relaxing on my patio after a hard day of “working for Jesus”, rather, it was what transpired on the way to the car that made a lasting impression. You see, I had taken my nephew and his dad with me on this local mission project. I thought it would be something that we all could do together and it would allow the wives a mid-week break from the boys. I thought it would be good for my nephew to get out and give back a little. As we made our way to the car, I was reminded of the incredible Christ-like influence fathers have on their sons if they choose to wield it. As we made our way to the car, my 12 year old nephew said this to his father, “Dad, I am glad I came on this trip”. His dad simply put his arm around him and said,”I am glad you came too son”. At that Point I realized that God does work in mysterious ways. Just when you think that you are working to make a difference in someone’s life, God may be making a difference in yours. The seed you may be attempting to plant in a strangers life, may be the seed that gets planted in your own life…or your nephew’s. It seems God is always using the circumstances, no matter how good or bad, to influence the next generation. I guess we need to keep sowing the seeds and let God do His thing. Maybe one day, my nephew may be a Jonathan.