More younger people than usual -- 4 or 5 in their twenties. One fellow called me from Steveston Hwy and arrived later on foot. He said he's been struggling with substance abuse, had spent a few months in treatment, relapsed badly (said you don't want to know him when he's using) and is consequently no longer welcome at home or his friends' places. "Matt", another young fellow. joined our conversation and shared that he's waitlisted at a recovery home and suggests the new guy apply too. He seemed very keen at the time, but didn't follow through this morning.
Another young man (23) arrived around 4 a.m. I know this because I drove him there. I had been sound asleep at home when my phone rang about 3:30. Not usually good news at that hour. On the line was a worried mother in Alberta who'd just been woken up by a collect call from her son in Richmond, who had spent the night wandering the streets. He asked her to do an internet search for shelters in Richmond and would be calling her back to get the info. She found our site, called me and told me he'd left home 3 months ago, has alcohol problems and was planning to take the bus to his brother's in Langley the next day. I initially gave her directions to St Alban to pass on to her son, but ended up driving over to pick him up as it was probably an hour's walk. He was a fine young man and was warmly greeted by our two overnight staffers, who fed him and gave him a blanket and a mat. In the morning, he had breakfast, picked out a warm sweater and left with a lunch and a bus ticket. He was very grateful. His mother left a message later asking that we pass on to all people involved in the shelter: "thank you very much and God bless you all".
As I've said before I have hope for all our guests, but I have a special hope for our younger guests. They are struggling with many of the same issues as the older guests, but they have time on their side, and enough of it to figure things out, grow into fine adults and put all this behind them. Chances are it will take years, but with their youth, they have that time. I know one young man who spent ten years struggling with addiction and homelessness in his teens and twenties but is now clean and sober and has a new life. He puts it this way: "I wasted 10 years of my life, but it was only 10 years".
An update on some of our regular guests:
Our young "Dorothy" and her wee dog arrived under their own steam for the first time since early December. (We'd given her a lift in a couple times since). Her dog is pretty much fully recovered from her accident and is now well enough to travel by bike to the shelter.
"Dave", our veteran cycling recycler, had been waitlisted for a recovery house, a slot became available last week, but he wasn't quite ready and did not follow through. He turns 60 this month.
"Bud" who went into detox, went missing for a few days then resurfaced in hospital is still in hospital and we've learned he was transferred there directly from detox due to illness. His illness is not life threatening but still quite serious.
Our married couple ("June" and "Ward") are back. June has been ill and they spent several hours each of the last two days waiting for care in emergency, eventually got some, and she seemed much improved last night. Ward has been getting some work in the construction industry allowing them to stay in a local hotel, at a reduced rate, when the shelter is closed.
Both "Neil" and "Wally" are still in the rooming house in Burnaby, and "Carl", our senior who has a temporary suite in Burnaby is still enjoying life there. "Neil" and "Carl" each spent a night or two at the shelter this week for various reasons, even though they have homes.
Finally, yesterday morning "Sonny"asked if I could give him a lift to a metal recycler on Mitchell Island (under the Knight Street bridge). I've never been to Mitchell Island, and I hadn't spent a lot of one-on-one time with Sonny, so it sounded like an experience not to be missed. En route we stopped to pick up the metal. First, at his van, permanently parked with two flat tires behind an apartment building his friend lives in. It is jammed to the ceiling with stuff, including metal bits. We transferred over a couple boxes of used brass doorknobs that he'd found in a dumpster. Next, we stopped at a processing plant that has an agreement with Sonny that he empty their bin of scrap metal every week, no matter what's in there. Normally, it contains some scrap steel that fetches 10 cents a pound. Today, he struck gold: well, copper (and aluminum) to be exact. Copper goes for $3 per pound and our little trip to Mitchell Island netted him $270 cash.
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| What $270 worth of copper and aluminum looks like |
He handed me a $20 bill as thanks, but I declined. On the way back, he was filled with joy and asked if it'd be ok if he sang some hymns. The sun was shining, his voice was strong (he's sung in a few choirs) and he told me a few times of his love of the Lord. I asked if he's part of a community. His eyes teared up and he said "no, but I sometimes stand outside a church on Sunday and listen to the singing". I asked if he doesn't feel welcomed. "It's not that. I don't want to go in front of the Lord until I've cleaned myself up: had a shower and have some clean clothes on." What went unsaid between us is that the clean clothes are not likely the real barrier -- it's most likely related to where this newfound cash would end up. I dropped him off near a bottle depot, as he requested, and we wished each other well.
Would I go back to Mitchell Island with Sonny? Not likely. But I look forward to spending some more one-on-one time with him again, whether he's in the mood for singing a hymn of thanks or singing the blues.
Larry, just love reading your detailed accounts of your interractions with the various guests, its almost like being there. Sorry I will be missing my turn later this week, but not sorry as it will be better weather for them to be out in. Sandra
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