Mack

Last night I was at the library until it closed at 9:00. There weren't too many people around at that point, and so as I was walking to my car I overheard a man growling out loud about the cold. He was swearing and cursing pretty loud, and when I turned to look at him I saw he was homeless and was carrying a ton of bags and other doo-dads. Feeling sorry for him I kept walking to my car, and offering him up some Hail Marys I started driving back to my place.

I want to digress here for moment. Yesterday as I told this story to another friend, I got yelled at "what good is that going to do." Well it might not be much but the fact that I was going to take some time to turn off the radio and offer some prayers for the guy is certainly better than the alternative. And it is a bit frustrating to here another Christian complain about it. I could perfectly understand an atheist making that argument, but to here another Christian moan about the insignificance of prayer is terrible. I understand physical concrete actions are probably best, but when that option is not available prayer must be better than absolutely nothing at all.

But this was also not a case where physical concrete actions were not available. I had plenty of things I could do, and so after driving for a couple minutes and thinking about my warm luxury car and my palace on the pond that I was heading to, I turned the car and sought after that guy. I found him approaching downtown, and pulled into the parking lot of a nearby bar that he was going to be walking by. As fortune would have it, he actually turned into the bars parking lot. I thought at first that he was going to go inside but instead he kept walking towards the back of the parking lot. At this point he was on the driver's side of my car and I rolled down my window. I could here him mumbling about maybe being able to find some money in the dumpster that was just a short distance away. I said to him, "Sir, do you have a shelter to go to tonight?" "No." "Would you like me to take you to a motel?" "I don't have the money." "Yes, would you like me to get you a room at a motel?" "Oh, I'd really appreciate it. The cold has withered my left hand from hypothermia." "Well then hop on in."

This was a bit easier said than done. He had a ton of stuff he was carrying on him, and I had stuff in the front seat which needed to be moved. I didn't want him sitting behind me, because I've seen to many movies of drivers getting strangled from behind with shoe lace or some other lacy object. But I got him in and we proceeded towards the hotels. I noticed he was much more polite in person than from what I heard when he was talking under his breath. By that I mean he wasn't swearing like he had Tourette's anymore. And he also didn't smell which was nice. His name is Mack. And Mack would not stop talking. He basically spoke when spoken to, but he had a lot to say all at once if that makes sense. I was trying my best to pay attention, but I was also trying to think of where I was going to take him, deciding how to deal with the possibility that wherever I took him might not accept him, and of course keeping an eye out for any unfavorable behaviors such as pulling out a knife.

From what I heard, basically his entire family is dead. His Mom died, his Dad was killed(?), his Uncle was killed in a bar fight, his sister died of cancer, and his wife died (of an illness?). He has a son but I couldn't figure out that his situation.

I wound up taking him to La Quinta Inn. This got us quite a few looks but the help was polite and got us a room. I probably should have paid in cash, but I didn't want to start pulling out fifties in front of the guy so I paid with a credit card. As we walked to his room I asked him to please not destroy the place in the night since I would be billed for it. He said he doesn't like a lot of commotion and would be quiet.

When we got to his room he started shedding all those bags and doo-dads and the coat. Then I saw he was much thinner than he first looked. His arms and legs were thin. He had sort of long hair, a pretty length beard, and finger nails about an inch or two long. It makes me wonder how he got his gloves on, which were too thin for the weather. I shook his hand, wished him a good night, left $3 for a bus ride back into town, and went on my way.

First thing this morning I drove back to La Quinta and asked the lady at the front desk to let me know when room 158 was checked that everything was fine and no additional bills would be necessary. She asked whether Mack knew when he was supposed to leave, and I said I hope so. It wasn't meant to be a continual thing. She said she'd call. Well she didn't call, so I called back around 2:30 and I got word that when they went in to clean the room, Mack had already gone and the room was fine.

Today I was back at the library and I saw Mack again. I walked up and asked how the room was. He said he had difficulty getting to sleep because it had been so long since he had a warm place to sleep. But once he got to sleep he slept like the dead. I said I was glad to hear it and went on my way.

We do have shelters here in town. I should really learn where they are at. I've even made sandwiches before for them, but I never bothered to drive them over, someone else always did. I could have simply given him directions to the shelter had I known. But at the same time I'm not aware of their policies. There may be time limits to how long you can continue going, or maybe he had gotten in a fight and is no longer allowed back. Picking him up like I did was certainly dangerous, but I figure if I was just considering a week ago about going to Afghanistan to probe IEDs, then I can probably take a guy to a hotel.