The answer --> Both cities are using their respective prestigious events as a reason for rounding up homeless and undesirable individuals that they do not want tourists to know exist in their picturesque cities and then sweeping them under whatever carpets they have available, out of sight - out of mind! These are the invisible people that City Fathers do not see except when they are in the way of a successful big bash or have to donate them a dollar for washing their luxury automobile windows at the stoplight. Can't have all them rich folk and power players having to stare at dirty scarecrows while they are busy drinking and eating their Champagne and Caviar. That could slow down the campaign money trains and sour the contributors swollen bellies. China is simply hauling their unwanted invisible people to the closest empty prison complex. Denver on the other hand is attempting to hide their shame with panache and style. I read on various sites that Denver has offered free haircuts plus free zoo, movie and museum tickets to the invisible people of Denver for the days of the convention. that should help keep them invisible from prying eyes. I have also read that they are improving and sprucing up the homeless centers for the Big Show. (Kind of reminds me of companies that had been informed that Big Wigs or OSHA was coming to inspect the workplace. Time for the old spit and polish routine.) Sigh, at least they are not just hauling them away and dumping the individuals in other towns, like Rock Island and Davenport have done in the past. Not to be outdone of course, I am sure Minneapolis-St. Paul is already busy firing-up their street sweepers, getting them set to rock and roll where they can also start rounding up the unwanted and destitute from the chaste eyes of the Republican Conventioneers in September. Ahh unadulterated moments like these just make you want to kick back your feet, pour out an icy cold Mt. Dew and sing a few verses of "The Big Rock Candy Mountain" (if ya can't remember the tune you can always just go rent the Movie "O Brother, Where Art Thou" and sing along with the intro. Of course that is assuming you are not outside in nature on a personal quest searching for your existence on the Big Rock Candy Mountain.)

According to Rick Sallinger of the CBS TV station, Denver Human Services has been handing out coupons for free homeless haircuts.

The idea was to make the homeless feel better about themselves. And maybe then they’d get jobs or something.

Rusty Johnson told Rick he hadn’t had a haircut in three or four months and, frankly, didn’t much care about the Democrats caring about his appearance. “I just want to look good and feel good for myself,” he said.

(Hat tip: Charles son of Stalin)

One gentleman told me he has a job to go to tomorrow.  He feels grateful because jobs are scarce in Yuma in the summer.  Another man told me that he spoke to his family on an out pass and felt so good about getting to be involved with them once again as he continues in the recovery program.  Another man asked me for an Algebra book so he could practice for his GED.  I tried telling him about the education assistance available at the Vocational Career Center when another client began enthusiastically telling him about the educational services we offer.  One man asked for a towel but we were out of them.  The house manager told another guest where to get in the ones that are stashed away for instances such as this. 

Some man and woman brought in several bags of popcorn and the shelter case manager is handing it out.  The men are really thrilled over the popcorn.  Another guest just came in from the kitchen.  He had been re-filling the water cooler with ice and water.  We try to keep it full in the foyer so that we have no one getting dehydrated during this extreme heat and humidity.  We often run out of ice because the ice machine is more than 12 years old.  I think it spends more time down than up.  (We are currently looking for a good used ice machine or a donor who could help us with a new one.)  Ice is a commodity that’s hard to do without whether it’s summer or winter.

Tonight, in the midst of the need and poverty, there’s a peace here. This kind of peace only comes from God.  This kind of peace comes when needs are being met.  Needs are being met through the food, clothing and shelter that is provided by the kind donors who support Crossroads.  Tonight, I am reminded of how much I appreciate my job and how far God’s mercy extends.  I love being in a ministry that helps people change their lives. 

Tonight I’m saddened to know that the dorm is completely full and we have 36 men sleeping on the floor in the chapel.  That’s nearly 80 men that don’t have a place to sleep tonight except at this emergency shelter.  We have never had men sleeping on the floor during the summer time until last summer.  What changed?  Is it the weather?  Is it the economy?  Is the word about the emergency shelter services getting out there?  It’s probably some of all of those.  On the other hand, I’m happy to know that there are kind people who believe in what we do here at Crossroads and support us with prayers, monetary donations, and in-kinds donations. 

Last night I didn’t sleep well.  I worried about the Mission’s electric bill, gas bill, and all those other bills.  I worried about the heat and keeping the folks hydrated and out of the elements.  I certainly wasn’t relying on the SOURCE!  Tonight, I know that I’ll sleep better.  God’s in charge—Myra’s not!   Sometimes I forget that!

My life seems so incredibly fucked up right now.  Even I have grown tired of the constant, seemingly endless drama that I consistently seem to manifest about me.

I have shared openly and with honest and authentic admission that I have not always lived life as a man of integrity.  Lies, deceptions, illusions, delusions once filled my life.  No one really knew who I was.  The pain that I carry, the result of the shame, guilt and true remorse are difficult to bear.  I make my own best attempts to forgive myself and live by the commitments I have made to a life of rigorous honesty.  I revel in my new, authentic life and the easy cadence it brings.

However there are some who I have hurt in the past that refuse to see me as the man I am today rather than the fool I was before.  Rather than try to see my progress, I am forced to swallow the bile of their resentments and my born again guilt.  I reach out to them at times like this for their love and support.  How many times can I hit "rock bottom" and how much worse can it get?  The problems I face in my life right now will lead to homelessness.  There is family and there are former partner's capable of helping me, but when I asked for their help the result was immediate and flat-out refusal followed by a barrage of their ugly reminders of the person I was.  Their resentments lead to an all out effort to exacerbate my already hopeless situation.

When does it ever stop?  What is do they get out of holding their resentments so dear?  When can I be seen as the man I am today, rather than the monster of my past?  How can family turn-off their love and sit idly by while I grow more and more lost, alone and afraid?  I have begged for their help.  Their refusal is like a nightmare; if they needed my help I wouldn't think twice.  I would do what I could.  I still love them, even now, as they turn away.

I have worked so hard and tried to follow a path toward personal growth.  I've learned so much along the way, but right now I feel so lost in my fears and find myself dwelling in these feelings of abandonment and betrayal.  These behaviors I know are preventing me from initiating my own solution to my challenges.  I want to learn whatever it is I am supposed to from this lesson and move on.  I want a life filled with the love and joy of family and friends.

Please God, send me an angel...

The city of Roswell, GA is consistently rated one of the nicest and safest cities to live in nationwide.  When I first heard of its prominence on the radio a few years ago, pride washed over me.  Finally, a city in Georgia is considered nice. And it is a nice city; plenty of BMWs, Mercedes, wives driving Navigators on cellphones during the middle of the day with nothing to do since hubby is at work, and ordinances that rape individual rights.

Gotta make sacrifices to be considered 'nice' though, right?  It is illegal in Roswell to have clothes lines visible to the public eye as of two weeks ago.  Because cities must look nice to everyone.  It is the social responsibility to the city of Roswell to keep those clothes lines out of sight, out of mind!  It's illegal to do what was very logical in the 1950s -- hang your clothes out to dry.  You know, let nature take its course.

I guess that's why I wipe my ass with the concept of social responsibility.  I can't understand it when you tell me that I live in the land of the free, but sleeping outside is illegal in so many cities.  They want to look nice.  Keep tourism pouring in, keep the money coming.  This is not a country for people who transcend the ideology of the American dream (get money, spend money, get more money, etc) and wish to truly live free.

How does one live free in this day?  To have no debt and no one to claim dominion over you is to live free.  In essence, to live without a home and without debt is to live free.  When you want work, you take day labor.  When you want to travel, you do so.  In most cases, the homeless are harmless.  You won't hear such cases broadcast, of course.

But to live free is illegal by and large.  And when it is not illegal, it is socially condemned, for those who are homeless do not contribute to the machine of social responsibility. It is emblazoned in our minds that we must keep America going and keep prospering and overcome everything in our way not matter what NO MATTER HOW MISERABLE IT MAY MAKE US and I can't FIND ANY SENSE IN IT!  We have established one right way to live and we must abide by that or drop off the face of the earth.

To be socially condemned is to lose everything; when no one wants to be affiliated with you, you may as well be dead.  Should I decide to truly be free, and live the American dream as it is meant to be lived, I must lose my life, so to speak.  As someone who has three jobs in public safety, a 730+ credit score, zero late payments in my life, and fuck -- not even a single shred of paperwork on my permanent file at ANY job -- I can safely say that social responsibility bears no fruit.  I have watched others who contribute less waltz right by me as I trudge through, as they were granted more opportunities, bore a more favorable last name, or were born into a rich family where they fight tooth and nail with kin for their piece of the pie, like parasites.

I have hope that there can be change.  Those who are homeless are not the enemy.  To be turned inward on ourselves and attack the homeless is to keep our attention away from the true problem.  The problem is that we believe there is only one right way to live and I cannot help but become infuriated as I type this blog.  For the first time in a very long time I am quite angry as I type.  I am furious not only because of the completely backwards mentality of this country, but also because of how ABUNDANTLY CLEAR and fallible our logic is and we fervently refute it!

Were I to try my hand at making an average person understand this fallacy, I would likely be subjected to an ear that refuses to listen.  But there are some who will, and in that belief I find promise.

Truly think about this.  I am not a conspirator, or at least I don't fancy myself as one.  We can't hang our clothes out to dry, we can't sleep outside (which was a very common thing centuries ago) and we can't smoke a naturally occurring plant.  What is next, honestly?  Stockholm Syndrome has a tight grip on our culture and it maddens me.  I take stock in going mad; I see the perks of becoming insane at times.  Because I think everyone else is insane at times.

The Homeless are like a Secondary Infection for America

If the overall population of selfish scumbag, uninformed, brainwashed by their religion, idiots is the primary infection such as cancer, the homeless are a pus leaking pustule on the ass of America.

Every major city which isn't in the freezing arctic areas has homeless roaming the streets, begging for money. Unlike poor countries which have a good reason (being dirt poor) for homeless people, America has none.

Supposedly a civilized nation, American people and the government cares nothing for these people who are on the streets because of the American government and mostly the American people.

Precisely why there is never an Asian homeless person is the reason why there are so many white and black homeless people.

American family values stink. Compound this with the lack of free health care and you have homeless.  Homeless mostly not down on their luck, unfortunates, but mentally ill.

Homeless increase the filth of urban cities as well as the crime rate.  Homeless decrease the quality of living for everyone else.

The Obvious Solution is to create a Large Homeless Furnace

A homeless furness in every city to collect and eradicate the homeless problem just like pigeons would be a perfect solution.  Most people would find this shocking, but it is the only logical solution.

This is another reason why American people are so vile and horrendous.  They will immediately shoot down the idea of a homeless furnace to rid the cities of the homeless problem.

The average American person (YOU the READER) cares absolutely nothing about homeless people but when the idea of a furnace to eradicate them is brought up, the average American suddenly cares about these filthy homeless people that not a soul cares about, especially not this country.

Whether you feel good or bad about these scoundrels and panhandlers on the streets you realize there has to be a solution.  Furnace or no furnace, the homeless problem will probably not be solved because of the inept American people and government.

The blame for this problem can be tossed around to multiple parties whom will never agree but one thing is for sure, the homeless are just one of 58 reasons to hate America.

The City of Denver has been working to make sure everything is in tip-top shape for all the visitors coming to town for the Democratic National Convention, and now a local salon is helping in that effort.

It seems to be a first -- don't move the homeless, clean them up. That was the work of one salon and the recipients didn't even seem to care if the Democrats were coming to town. Sly's Salon at 17th and Grant was offering free haircuts to the homeless Monday.

"To give them haircuts and make them all spiffed up for the Democratic National Convention, because they are part of our community as well," said Ghandia Gohnson, co-owner of Sly's Salon.

Rusty Johnson hasn't had a haircut in three-to-four months. He said his appearance during the convention made no difference to him.

"I just want to look good and feel good for myself, that's all," Johnson said.

Story

More or less absurd sounding than the plan to get them all into museums and movies etc, during the convention?

Officials with nearby Business Improvement Areas (BIA) said they support options such as the city offering alternatives to addicts, boozers, those with mental issues and the homeless.

"Enforcement hasn't done it," Bloor-Yorkville BIA general manager Briar de Lange said.

Her area rarely has serious problems, unlike lower Yonge St. whose BIA since 2000 agreed to invest $1.5 million on "pay duty" police patrols, brighter sidewalk lighting and negotiated for more regular police patrols.

"There were some confrontations this summer," but most involved drunk regulars, de Lange said yesterday. "We haven't resorted to private security or pay duty officers.' (news)

Si atunci m-am gandit: oare cand au calcat stramb, s-au impiedicat, au cazut si... nu s-au mai ridicat? Oare ceva major, o intamplare zguduitoare i-a facut sa ajunga in halul asta sau, pur si simplu, un pas marunt, dar GRESIT, e resortul?

Am realizat ca si cele mai mici greseli pot avea urmari dezastruoase.... Si cele mai mici renuntari te pot aduce in stadiul de a-ti rata viata... Pentru ca e mai simplu (si nu cred ca ma poate contrazice cineva) sa te lasi dus de val, sa nu mai lupti daca ai cazut, sa iti creezi conditiile unui "trai confortabil" pe treapta aceea pe care ai ajuns dintr-o eroare, decat sa te zbati, sa lupti, sa iti aduni puterile sa te ridici! Sunt convinsa ca multi dintre noi avem cel putin un moment in memorie care ne provoaca fiori gandindu-ne ca am fi putut hotari altfel! Eu am, cel putin! Sau, din pacate, suntem foooarte multi care purtam cu noi regretul deciziilor pe care le-am luat candva si ale caror urmari le resimtim din plin! Si nu e dureros ca nu mai putem intoarce timpul?

Ma bucur, de exemplu, ca nu m-am demoralizat dupa primul esec la admiterea la facultate (adica eu m-am demoralizat, dar ce bine ca am avut alaturi oameni care m-au sfatuit si ce desteapta am fost ca am ascultat! :D ) si am mai dat o data, la alta facultate!! Ma trece un fior pe sira spinarii gandindu-ma ca puteam sa renunt, sa raman in orasul natal.. Adica toti anii astia sa nu fi existat "asa"?

Pe de alta parte, ma rod in fiecare zi greselile pe care le-am facut (mai marunte si mai mari) pentru ca urmarile exista, fizic si psihic si sper din toata inima sa reusesc sa il fac pe copilul meu (daca imi va ajuta Dumnezeu sa am unul) sa inteleaga cat de mult conteaza sa lupti, sa te tii de cuvant, sa cauti echilibrul in interiorul tau, nu in afara ta, nu intr-o sticla, nu intr-o relatie, nu in niste pastile... Pentru ca si un gest mic, o hotarare sau o indecizie, o renuntare sau o lupta, poate sa schimbe iremediabil o viata!

Poate ca am dat prea multa atentie cuplului respectiv... Pentru altii nu erau decat niste oameni... Pentru mine erau niste intrebari! Poate ca asa au vrut (desi ma indoiesc), poate ca unul l-a tras pe celalalt in jos, poate ca au fost niste rebeli care nu s-au putut adapta la societate cu toate normele ei, poate au avut o casa, o gradina, copii si un serviciu bun dar le-au pierdut si nu s-au mai simtit in stare sa mai lupte si au avut nevoie de o dependenta in care sa isi inece esecul, poate ca, pur si simplu, un lung sir de petreceri cu prietenii le-a dezvoltat nevoia de alcool... Cine stie?

Asa ma apuca pe mine sa analizez oamenii... Ma ajuta, uneori, sa mai rezolv din dramele interioare proprii, sa ma mai vindec...

P.S. Pentru cei care au considerat ca "toate posturile sunt triste" de pe blogul meu: ASTA NU E TRIST, e realist, poate ca are un pic din "filozofia cozonacului", dar e de la mine din suflet!!

My only friend, my only companion as the sun shattered upon the ground, was the moon. He was delusional, fake. Only the wolves knew his tale, for that I could never understand. For it was in the dark of night that I of few, relyed on the shallow light of the moon.

With my dampened eyes, I gazed at the wolves. They traveled together, under the light of the moon. They were family. Such a sight was beautiful, unseen before. Upon my gazing crept a storm. A dangerous devil that concealed himself within a blanket of clouds. I was fooled. I felt almost, almost safe. Safe within the sanctions of night.

 How I dared to be so foolish, I'll never know. One thing for sure, was that as it came closer, ever nearer, I was asleep. Drifting in my everlasting ignorance. There was no doubt, I would sink. Drop into an inescapable pit, a void to never be seen.

My eyes slowly opened, just in time, to see the dawn of a new age. The once shattered sun, the once broken savior, was afire with glee and joy once more! There was no doubt, no ounce of suspicion that I had been saved. I had been deemed worthy to continue my venture. To set aflame those who hold greed and hate at their best!

No more would I doubt such power, such truth in the face of danger. My only loss, my only answer lost at see was how. How would I once more find deliverance, the deliverance of equity?

Because many poor, mentally ill, unhoused or drug addicted people get arrested, the courts became more and more overcrowded with what were deemed "social issues." The response was to create separate systems for the administration of these cases. Ironically, these substance abuse courts, mental health courts and, most recently, homeless courts all coincide with drastic reductions in state and federal government funding of community-based treatment and housing programs. In one classic example, the King County (Wash.) court system established mental health courts while at the same time the state cut $6 million in community-based mental health programs.

This is not an isolated incident. It has become a national trend. While the social-service branches of government have divested themselves of responsibility to fulfill their initial mandates, the branch of government charged with incarceration and rehabilitation has created a whole new role for itself, that of an access point to treatment, social workers and shelter services. In 1997 only two mental health courts existed in the United States. Today we have over 100. It is ironic that today the three largest residential mental health facilities in the United States are the Los Angeles County jail, Cook County jail in Chicago and Rikers Island in New York City!

Mentally ill jail inmates are 2.5 times more likely to have been homeless prior to incarceration compared with all other inmates.

The criminal justice system is ill-equipped to address the social issues being dumped on its courtroom floors, so now we are getting these behavioral courts that all come with a special twist: no option to plead "not guilty."

Homeless courts are the newest incarnation of these special courts.
Homeless courts are not courts as most people understand courts to be. In fact, they are just the opposite. Defendants in homeless courts are presumed guilty and must plead guilty in order to avail themselves of whatever services are to be offered through the courts. Due process, anyone?

"Defendants" are brought in for such "crimes" as sleeping, camping, disturbing the contents of a container (ie. going through trash for food or recyclables), panhandling, being in a park after hours (parks that until a very short time ago were open 24 hours and used to be considered public space), jaywalking, loitering, sitting or lying on a sidewalk and, of course, the grande dame of egregious offenses committed by homeless people, peeing and defecating. Once they plead "guilty," they are then assigned to services or community service (in lieu of jail or fines) as an alternative sentence handed down by the benevolent court.

In San Francisco and Los Angeles, though, attorneys doing citation defense have won dismissal of all charges in more than 80 percent of the cases they represented. In legal terms, more than 80 percent have been found not guilty of the original charges against them.

In other words, local governments are creating two-tiered court systems that are determined by economic status. There are criminal courts for people who can afford attorneys or have access to a public defender. They recognize due process. And now there are behavioral courts for people who cannot afford attorneys and have no access to a public defender. They do not recognize due process.

This separation that sends poor people who are homeless or mentally ill to special "courts," where they must plead guilty in order to obtain the services they so desperately need, violates the very foundation of our criminal justice system.

Paul Boden is the executive director of the Western Regional Advocacy Project, or WRAP. The organization is a coalition of organizations along the West Coast committed to exposing and eliminating the root causes of civil and human rights abuses of people experiencing poverty and homelessness.

Artwork by Nili Yosha

Snow Patrol’s “Chocolate” is playing, ah a good song.

During the daily afternoon walk around downtown Pittsburgh, it’s become a tradition to stop in CVS. Today was no different. Dawn, my co-worker is obsessed with the place. You can tell she shops there a lot when the register spews coupons that are the length of Heinz Field. The kicker is she never uses most of them.

But CVS is just convenient to shop at since there is not a real grocery store downtown and it servers it’s purpose well. Only if the can shoo away the panhandlers on the side of the building.

I remember when I lived downtown during my college years the panhandlers and crazies the frequented the area. We had crazy sombrero man who worked downtown during the day and Oakland at night. Scary Asian man who sat in front of the CVS near Market Square begging for money in his new Starbucks cup and then there was turrets lady walking up and down Wood Street shouting out the top of her lungs obscenities about people, animals and the sky…seriously I heard it all.

I think it’s a shame how I remember the people that I never knew and just give nicknames too, but I forget the names of the people I went to school with and spent 4 years with.

Is that odd?

Maybe they didn’t impact my life that much or they did and I took the wisdom they gave me and moved on as I was “done” with them. And when I said done not in the “Ok I have no use for you, be gone!” But more in the “Hey thanks for that insight on life, maybe we’ll cross paths again sometime soon and share some more later,” way.

I know you may not think there is a difference, but to me there is. Not everyone will be your friend but you can have plenty of acquaintances that are there for entertainment, good laughs or good source of information.

So, that is my thoughts on that for the day.

Right now, I’m going to check out the free single of the week on iTunes, read some other blogs and then that should take me to 4:30 then I am gone for the day!

Date: Thursday 8/14/2008

Location: Uptown 1 Train approaching 59th Street

Time: 2:30a-3:00a

Level of Foolishness: MODERATE

After a night of drinks at the Pinetree Lodge with some old co-workers, I walked to the #1 Train headed uptown at 34th street. Lucky for me the train came rather quickly.

I boarded the chilly train, ipod in hand, and snuggled into my seat. Had it been any other time of day I would have closed my eyes, peacefully napping until 231st. Lucky for me I was awake to witness the foolishness that was only 3 stops away.

As the train approached the 59th street station, I looked across the platform. Sitting in the wooden seat was a homeless man, not uncommon for that time of night. He had the usual assortment of bags filled with I don't know what, also not uncommon. The man seemed to be your usual homeless dude until I looked to the right of him. Next to the mountain of dirty plastic bags leaning upright was a pair of skis. Yes I said a pair of skis. How this man go those skis, I don't know. What he was planning on doing with those skis I really don't know.

The level of foolishness for this incident would have been elevated from moderate to high had I actually seen the man wearing the skis. Perhaps he will test them out this weekend.

As I was looking for a picture to go along with this blog,  I came across an article written in "The Scarlet" (I pulled the pic from this site).  I decided to read it while I was there and realized WHY most people can't work...they don't have an ADDRESS to provide an employer in order to work!  Well DUH to me... If the government is going to provide work assistance programs, why not help them by providing their address til they get off the streets into their own place (maybe make them check in weekly)?!  If that happened, perhaps there would be less people on the streets.  I don't know...or maybe it's already done in some areas and just not in others?

In the meantime, we'll continue to be led to give to certain individuals whether with food, material items (clothes, blankets, etc), or money ...because you just never

Women have changed the face of homelessness over the last 15 years.  In January 2005, an estimated 745,000 homeless people were documented in a nationwide point-in-time survey.  According to this study, families now constitute more than 41% of the homeless population, up 5%.  The same point-in-time survey showed that on any given day in Kansas City, an average of 615 families with 1,511 children is homeless.  Sheffield Place has changed the way that homeless families headed by women are given the support needed to break out of the cycle of homelessness and poverty.  We offer an alternative to the “bed and bread” concept by providing services addressing the symptomatic causes of homelessness including mental illness, substance abuse, domestic violence, and poverty. 

Donate Time:  There are plenty of charities and non-profit organizations that are starving for energetic, bright volunteers.  My cousin was a part of Big Brothers/Big Sisters and he loved it.  Or even read to children at your local library.  You would be amazed at how you can brighten the life of a child be just showing some attention not ordinarily received.

Donate Sweat:  Remember that elderly couple I mentioned above?  Well the seasons will be changing before you know it and guess what that means.  It's time to rake leaves.  Grab a friend or two and offer to rake leaves or clean gutters or even wash their car.  Now, since you are volunteering your time, don't accept money but if they want to invite you in for cookies and milk....

Donate Money:  I know that a lot of us don't have a bunch of extra time on our hands.  Of course you could always donate money.  However, instead of just throwing your extra change in a box at a cash register or at a guy dressed up as Santa Claus, do some research.  Find a charity that aligns with your interests.  I just found one that helps to donate to the pets of homeless people http://www.petsofhomeless.com/default.htm).  And, of course, you can still donate to the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Cancer Walk that my girlfriend, Tiffany participated in couple of weeks ago (http://08.the3day.org/goto/tiffanysteele ).  Here is another idea, you can put all your coins that are in your pocket at the end of the day in a jar and a few times a year, donate it.  It may or may not be much but you know as well as I do, every penny helps.

I know the economy has caused many of us to tighten our belts and curb our spending.  Yet, if you, the one with a home and a job, has to tighten your belt, imagine what people with less than you have to deal with.

Well children, I’ve done it.  I’ve finally reached the 30,000 site visit mark.  When I first started this blog, I always said that my entire goal was to get to 30,000 views.  That was what it was all about.  That, and getting some pussy.

Well, today is my day; my day of victory.  It’s a really interesting experience, crossing this great milestone after having posted nothing in four days and not really having posted anything substantial in over a week.  It’s like if Michael Phelps could get a gold medal for swimming he did last year.  It just doesn’t feel quite right.

Clearly, this milestone needed more meaning.  It needed an element of an achievement greater than my own.  Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

1) The chefs pictured above cooked enough beans to feed 30,000 people that day.  These chefs inspired 30,000 bowel movements, one for each time someone has viewed my blog.

2) Due to the recent Russian attacks on Georgia, 30,000 Georgians have been left homeless.  I know that this is a humanitarian crisis and possibly the tipping point on the path towards another world war, but this tragedy hits me on a more personal level.  30,000 Georgians homeless means 30,000 Georgians with no internet, and thus no way of reading this blog.  I’m clearly the victim here.

3) One sweet day, a genius decided to set off a bundle of 30,000 bottle rockets, and thankfully they had the good sense to tape it.  Here for your enjoyment is that video; one pop for each view.

Here’s to 30,000 more.  Thanks for all your traffic, I couldn’t have done it without you.  Though, to be totally fair, you couldn’t have done it without me either.

Just a forewarning here – this is going to be a little more long winded that normal for me. But these are not from me. The following represents the impact a homeless fellow had on those he touched during his short 42 years here. Please read them and realize that that guy you see sitting or sleeping in the park is someone’s son…brother...father. That guy you see flying a sign? Same thing. Just something to keep in mind.

Here’s Wades story through the eyes of others…

From his Mother…
There are no words that can sufficiently express my appreciation
to all of you who contributed to this blog….most especially to
Dave who created it and had the most recent and last contact
with Wade. Through this and the many people who have talked
or written to me since Wade’s death, I have come to realize
and find comfort in the fact that Wade’s death is not “senseless”.
That this “drunk” may have positively touched more lives
than we who have been or have become “sober”!

His life was not in vain. He has left a legacy of four beautiful
children and one grandchild, as well as friends and acquaintances
who because of his struggles have stopped or paused in their lives
to think about what their role is in this earthly life.

Yes, he caused heartache to others because of his alcholism and
much turmoil, but isn’t the neediest of us often the greatest
teacher!

Thank you all for your comforting words and prayers.

Dave, heartfelt thanks for your work and please pass on my
thanks to his “buddies” in Omaha who care for each other, and
cared about Wade.

I am Wade’s mother who never faulter in her love for her
“baby” son.

And from his twin sister…
Hi and Thanks!! I am Wades twin sister Wendy. I have been searching for information about this crazy death and “why” it has to happen to so many. I found this blog and just wanted to say “Thank you so much” I always wondered what Wade was doing and where he was, was he hungry, cold or hurt, could we of done more, do we just go get him? All the questions I am sure a family has. My biggest fear was him being alone, and now reading this I am feeling comfort and peace knowing he had people who cared. Why should I of worried, because I knew as all his family and friends did… Wade made friends “wherever” he was, he touched lives in positive ways, through laughter was a big way. He could make you laugh at the smallest of things.
Wades funeral service was wonderful, friends from all stages of his life cane and they spent time with myself, his wife, his siblings, his mother and his brothers telling stories of the past and how he made impressions in there lives. Then to read the blog and see the caring, understanding, non-judgmental friends praying and celebrating their time with him is a comfort. Wade has taught myself a lesson in life, not to judge others but reach out and know everyone has a story, be non-judgmental. I pray that Wades death will touch others as well who suffer from addiction to reach out and ask for help, this death is the cross-road, which road will be taken?

Thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts and words for my brother. You have helped in my grieving and answer some questions as to what he was doing the last days of his life. Again, who knows, we can all play the “what if” game and wonder what would of happened if we would of done this for Wade, what words could or should we of said to convince Wade to want to go to treatment. He wanted it bad I know, his pain was deep, but something always made him stay away from treatment, just one more drink and then I’ll go, or I’ll go next week… I am sure he said this many times and then never would go and then feel the pain and guilt of failing again. Sadly, for us, Wade did make it to treatment if I must find a way to help me in my pain of grieving, he made it to Heavens Treatment Center, the center of grace, peace, comfort and God’s everlasting love. He will no longer be a failure in his addiction, he has beaten it. I love you Wade and your legacy lives on and on in your 4 beautiful kids.

My prayers will be for Wade and our family and special prayers for all who suffer from addictions and trying to find the way back home, and for people who reach out to help in acts of non-judgmental kindness to help the suffering.

Thanks. from a twin sister who misses her little brother. You will never know what reading your story has done for my soul.

Wendy

And from his daughter…
My name is Lacey Sechtem I am 22 years old and am one of four siblings, Wade Sechtem was my father. This loss has been extremley hard and painfull for the entire family. We all had this little hope inside that he would find help and get better and come back home. In away he did go home maybe not the home we all wanted but he is at home with Jesus. He is no longer feeling pain, guilt, and shame.

I remember the day my Mother, Grandma, brother and sister went to drop him off in Omaha there at the homeless place. I couldnt even go, it was too painful for me and my other sister. I wanted him to get help and we all had did all we could do for him. We just couldnt help him anymore.

This last year i have missed my Dad so much, i have a 4 year old daughter who missed her Grandpa as well. But it was always so hard to hear his voice on the phone and hear him tell us where he was living and how he was living. It was so painfull, all I ever wanted to do was to go find him in Omaha and take him home and take care of him, but I knew I couldnt.

But to see what this man had written about my Dad was hard to read but nice to read at the same time. It was nice to see that there were people out there trying to help him, and wanting to help him. But what really made me and my family smile was to see that there were peoples lives Dad had touched, even being on the streets, that they did a memorial for him. He was such a good man, despite his struggles with alcohol.

My Dad was a great man, he was an Amazing Father and Grandpa. I remeber when I was in the hospital after I gave birth to my daughter Aza, my Dad was hogging her so much, he held her and rocked her almost the entire day. He was so proud to be a grandpa. I loved seeing how much he loved his grandaughter, but everyone kept giving him crap cuz he would barley let anyone else hold her. Growing up he was so much fun he always took us to the park, taught us how to play golf, basketball, softball, and so much more. We always had so much fun with Dad. He owned several restraunts growing up, and we were always at his side eager to learn. And he taught us so much. He was always there when we played high school sports, always the loudest parent cheering us on. He was always so proud of us, when me and my sister made it to state track several years in a row he was always there in the stands cheering so loud and proud it always made me smile so much.

He was so funny, as im sure if anyone knew him they would know that. He was always cracking jokes and playing practical jokes. I remember one time at my track meets him and some of the other Dads were all sitting by the track and my friends and I would come hang out there in between our events and Dad would tie a string to a pop bottle and then tie it to someones shoe so when they got up and jogged off it would hit there foot and drag behind them. He got so many people it was halarious. But that was his thing was to make people laugh and he was so good at it.

But I know that his last part of his life was sad and not really the way he wanted. But I want people to know that he was such a great man, he was so loving, caring and would do anything for anyone. He always made sure all of kids had everything we needed, he was so good at making amazing meals outta nothing..we would always say there was nothing in the house and he would whip up some big meal.

My Dad was an amazing Chef. Growing up he was head chef of several hotels, his presentations were breath taking, he was so good at making hospitality and food and bringing people together. He has so much of his life to be proud of.

I could go on and on, but wanted to thank the man for writting what he did. It has been a very tough several days knowing I never got to tell my Dad goodbye and tell him that I love him so much. But I am at peace knowing he is in Heaven with no more pain, my family had looked up the meaning of the Lake and it means peace and comfort, very ironic, but I think God answered all our prayers and even Dads prayers by taking him home. I think God knew Dad could never beat this addiction,this horrible diease. So God took Dad home, and as much as I miss him and how much it was so hard to tell him good bye and leave the cemetary yeasterday with his casket on the hill all alone, I was at peace in my heart knowing he is home.

I know my pain in my heart will go away very slowly, but missing my wounderful Dad wont. But we will keep him alive in our hearts with all his beautiful meomories and the beautiful memories that always ended up with us crying with laughter.

We also had memorials go towards the Siena Francis House in Omaha. We want to help out others like Dad that are suffering.

Thank you agian to the man that wrote that blog. It was beautiful to see a man trying to help my father. Thank you for helping my Dad and for trying to help him in his struggles. God Bless you and all his friends there in Omaha.

And from his son…
Hi, this is Isaac Sechtem….Wade’s son. I just want to thank you for writing this. It is nice to know that he had friends that were trying to help him. He was a great father but unfortunatley for his family and friends, he couldn’t break the addiction. All we ever wanted was for him to get better and come back home. I wish he never would have found alcohol. It ruined his life. But it makes me happy to know he had friends in Omaha that cared for him and listened to him. I’m going to miss him so much, but I know he is in a better place now. And I just thank everybody for trying to help him. And for keeping him company. Whenever I talked to him on the phone he would always talk about his buddies in Omaha. Even though some of the things I didn’t like to hear what he was doing but that was my dad. Always pulling jokes, or doing something stupid just to make people laugh. That was his gift. He got it from his dad and I get it from him. Everybody loved him. And it’s gonna be a hard loss for everybody that knew him. And I thank all of his buddies that they had the memorial service for him. I know he would have liked that. It broke my heart to say goodbye but one of the Indian meanings for Lake Manawa was “Peace and Comfort.” And that is what he got from his passing away. The life he was living on the streets was hard on him, and his body showed that. So now he can rest in peace and be with his dad again in Heaven. Because I don’t think he could have taken much more of the life he was living. He hated what he did, but Alcohol is a disease. It tore him away from his family, and he hated that. He loved his family, and I know all he wanted was to be back in their arms. So now he can finally be with them again. Watching over them and helping them through life. And i’m sure he’ll be with his friends too. Because the other meaning for Lake Manawa was “Heart.” And my dad had the biggest one I knew. He loved his friends and family and they loved him right back. It is hard not to like my dad because of his personality. He would help anybody if he had anything to give. And he loved his friends in Omaha and I think they gave him a good couple of years. And I appreciate them trying to help him and get him in to rehab. But like I said. Alcohol is a disease and it controlled his life. Unfortunatley, I believe it played a big part in his death. Like the blog said, what if he would have gotten better. Would what happened, happen? But he didn’t get better, so I believe what happened was what needed to happen. Becuase now he can finally live in peace with himself in Heaven, and watch over his family and friends. He loved them all, and they loved him right back. So thank you to all of his friends, he loved you guys and always talked about you. I wanted you to know that. You guys helped him stay alive for as long as he did. Thank YOU.

I love you dad and will always miss you.

Again, thanks for writing this blog,
Wade’s son….Isaac Sechtem

And from his youngest daughter…
This is Heather Sechtem, Wade’s youngest daughter and I’m 17 well 18 in 4 days. I’ve read and reread this page many times and I cry every single time. Just know how my dad touched people’s life. I thank everyone who has comment on this which yes most of it is family but I so thank you Dave for writhing this Blog! I can’t thank you enought!

I love my dad very much and i’ve missed him every single day. I know my dad hated who he became and i knew that wasn’t my dad. I’ve had countless amazing memories with my dad some good soome bad but now that He’s gone all my bad memories went away and I can remember my dad for who he truly was!

My Dad was the best cook! He could have done great things! My dad was an amazing father to all us kids. He was an amazing friend and husband. My dad taught me so many things throughout my life and I wouldn’t be who i am today with out my Daddyo! My dad thought he was the best singer, thought being the keyword! haha… I loved going fishing with my dad or playing sports with my dad. Going to The Huddle after hours and playing pool til one in the morning! I loved every single moment i was with My dad! I love when we spent like 4 hours looking for some outfirts for my mom and Dad was trying on all these white and red leather coats I’ve never laughed so hard. We’d listhen to Bob Segar’s song “the Answer’s in the Question” countless times on our way back and forht from Kearney to Grand Island! He sure did love his music as do I. I am alot like my dad and I have never ever once regreted it. I’m proud to be like my Father, the one that everyone looks up to the one that you could count on and the one that everyone loved dearly!

After we dropped my dad off in Omaha I knew that was it. I knew we tried everything and that it was up to him. We all thought that when dad met up with Bobby that it was it. It was the thing that was going to turn it around. Even though that didn’t happen we are so grateful that Bobby took care of him and did what he could, so Thanks Bobby!

Last time I saw my dad was thanksgivng of 2007 and I knew that was the last time I was going to seem him. I cried nights and nights and prayed and prayed that, that wasn’t true but I knew deep down it was. I haven’t talked to my dad since April of 2008 and it drove me absolutely crazy not talking to him, not being able to get ahold of him. at the same time It just got harder and harder to talk to him. I know that now my Dad has finally beat his addiction and he is at peace now. I miss my daddyo every day and I feel lost without him. I do know he’s watching me and my family everyday I just wish he was here.

I could go on and on and on of stories of my Dad and memories and how much I love him but this will sum it up. (and I’ll probably repeat myself)
I love My Daddyo very much and I know he was a very loved person. He touched so many peoples life and I know that i am one of those people! My dad is gone but his legacy is still here amongst My sisters, my brother and I! I’m so thanksful to be like my Daddyo!

And from his brother…
your comment that no one could reach him to make a difference is the lynchpin of trying to understand (and ultimately accept) what happens to an addict or an alcoholic. no one can reach the addict except those who he will reach out to and, unfortunately, humans, no matter how good their intentions may be, will not suffice to carry an addict to healing. only God can do that. an addiction is just like a cancer and once you get it only a miricle can flush it out of your system. so no matter how hard wade tried or thought about “kicking” the habbit there was no way it was going to happen absent a humbling cry to God and even then it must be within His will to give you the power to get rid of the...

And from his little league baseball coach…
After talking with Fay on Sunday and reading about wade the past few days I knew I had to share my time with Wade throughout his LL career. It started out as a fun-loving 10 year-old with the red baseball glove. The first week or so of practice Wade had a couple of accidents at the conclusion of practice on 2 consecutive days. As practice was wrapping up the first day, Wade was at third base and I was hitting pop-ups to everyone and they were to come in after the catch. Well Mom (Fay) pulled up across the street and Wade missed his pop-up and it hit him in the eye. The next day (again Wade at third) I was hitting grounders to everyone and they were again to follow it in. Well Mom shows up again and guess what? The ball takes a bad hop and hits Wade in the mouth chipping one of his front teeth. The poor kid. The next day Wade asks if I could take him home after practice everyday and of course I said I could and he never again got hurt at practice. I guess Mom made him nervous when she pulled up and he would lose his concentration

What a great kid he was! Backing up some when Larry and I went around to tell everyone they were on our the Rotary baseball team is when we found out that Wade had a twin sister Wendy. After getting to know her I found out what a great fun-loving kid she was also. I grew to love the Sechtem family as I would pick Wade and Jerry Sanders up each night after practice and we would go to either Harmon or Collins to watch their friends play or to scout out our next opponent. What a great bunch of friends I got to know of Wades’ in doing this those summers not so long ago.

One time as a 12-year old we were practicing at Central and was having batting practice when after throwing ball after ball after ball to Wade upon looking back he jokingly took a stance on the left side of the plate. My first thought was Sechtem get on the right side but then decided after too many pitches and my arm about to fall off to see what he could do from that side of the plate. Well to everyone’s astonishment Wade was hitting the ball pretty well so had him hit from that side of the plate the rest of the season.

I again coached Wade as a 14 and 15 year-old. Wade was still the fun-loving, joking around kid that he had been in his younger years. I almost forgot about his LOVE of the Kansas City Royals and his beloved George Brett. Boy as a die-hard Yankee fan you can bet that we had our share of smack-talk to each other all those years.

The season of Wades’ 14 year-old season was winding down and we found ourselves in the playoffs with the worst record of the 4 teams. The first round we had to play Kuhns’ UCT team who had only 1 or 2 losses for the year. Well as everyone knows we took care of them and had to face Max and his Elks teammates. We were getting beat like 8-1 in the third inning when I finally decided it was time to bring Wade in and see what might happen. Well we started chipping away into the lead and with Wade pitching spectacularly we ended up coming from behind and winning the championship with Wade throwing 7 1/3 innings of no-hit ball. What a game!

The one thing Wade could always talk about though was his brother Wes and what he did in the finals when he played for the Elks. As the story from wade went was Wes caught a home-run ball in the finals and put a dent in the top pole of the fence at Dryden. This was by far the coolest thing Wade had ever seen done. Well as our season went (even his giving up a home-run to Stacy Imming) we again made a run for the playoffs and again had to face the same teams. Well in the finals against the Elks Troy Crawford hit a shot to center and who was playing in center? Of course it was Wade and he went back and robbed Troy of a home-run and guess what? Wade made his own mark on the top railing at Dryden. Was he ever on cloud nine! Wade was a great pleasure to coach those 5 years I had him and I could play him anywhere (I think he played every position except the outfield corners) and could count on him to get the job done.

I am truly honored to have known Wade and wish that could of kept a little better contact with him when I was done coaching him. Wade was always so fun-loving, caring and joking individual.
I truly wish Gods’ blessing on Fay and her family and also to Cheri and her family as they each deal with this tragic loss of a truly great individual. Wade, buddy I only pray that you are watching over each of us and will keep all close as we each keep you close to each of our hearts. You are truly missed by all!

Ed

And from a friend…
I don’t even know where to begin. I am extremely greatful that there is a public forum for folks to share about Wade’s infusion in their lives. THANK YOU!

I grew up with Wade. I am a few years younger than him and he was best friends with my older brother. They had a posse of a few other great dudes and I was the “Little brother that tagged along”. There were times when they would do whatever they could to shake free of me…but since Wade was always nice to me my hunger to hangout with these guys drove me to endure the nipple twisters, noogies, arm burns, or the craziest stunts they made me do in order to stay around - looking back, all of those guys were hilarious in what they put me through…but it was worth it!

As I kept passing “the tests” I was allowed to hangout more. But then there was a break point when they got into high school - the little brother was put into exile…..but not from Wade.

He ALWAYS hungout with me. The list of thing we did together is incredibly long, but our favorites was fishing, playing the Atari 2600, and dunk hoops (basketball on 8ft rims). I don’t think we ever had a bad time together. And I cannot remember too many times he was ever mean to “the little brother tag-a-long”.

Wade stayed at my house for a couple days a few months ago. When I picked him up I was utterly baffled, and very sad. For the first few miles on the way to my house, I kept lookng at him in disbelief. The thought was, “This can happen to anyone - but not my childhood hero. And certainly not Wade.” Before we got to my house I was ready to cry. That night he had supper with me and my family. My family had heard hundreds of stories about him over the years…but they were also in disbeleif that this was the person that influenced me. I kept bringing up events we had as kids and Wade’s response was, “Uh yeah, I think I remember that.” My heart was in great pain looking and listening to him. By the end of the meal I came to this conclusion: The “Wade” I loved was dead, adn this guy in front of me was an imposter.” I greived his death that evening. I can confirm everything his family has shared in this blog: He hated what his life had become…and he wanted rehab, but would not do it. The saddest thing is that he hated himself, which in turn fueled his hopelessness that he felt. It makes me sad and sick even as I write this. I have ministered to folks in the same situation as Wade found himself - ALL of them hated the way their lives were turning out. ALL of them were in great inner pain.

I talked to Wade on the second nght asking him “How in the workld did you get to this place in life?” He knew, but didn’t know. I peppered him constantly with how much of a great person he is, and reflecting back, I imagine that caused him more pain. He could see in my eyes that I was very sad, and I could see in his eyes that he THOUGHT he let down his favorite fan. for the record, he did NOT let me down. He couldn’t. He just made me very sad. When i dropped him off at his new apartment I prayed with him and told him that I loved him. He said he loved me too - and I KNOW he did/does. As tears are welling up in my eyes as I write this - I know he does/did.

The family statements in there posts here are correct - NO ONE EVER disliked Wade. There is no possible chance of that. Not even remotely. There was zero opportunity for that possibilty. And his influence on folks is deep. Deep to the core of the people’s soul that he touched. When I got the first of many emails telling me about Wade’s situation in Omaha a few months ago - I prayed I would find him. As said in paragraphs above I got my opportunity to love him and be loved by him before he passed away…and a revelation smoked me like getting hit by a train: A major aspect of my life of who I am today was grafted into me by being around Wade growing up. Soem of the things I knew were from him as I got older, but many were a delightful surprise that I have seen in the last few months. Here’s a quick list:

Doing a “gainer” off of the diving board ending it with a massiive explosion of water. I am trying to teach my boys how to do it. Like me, they think it is the coolest thing in the world. And by the way - it is! Night fishing. Enjoying looking at the stars late at night. Loving the baseball great George Brett. (I have lost interest in Major League baseball ever since Brett retired). Loving the rock band The Cars. BTW, my boys 100% love the cars too. Delivering the perfect one liner, especially in tense situations to put people at ease. Being laid back and calm in any situation and dealing with smoothly. A light blue VW bug - he drove one growing up and we had countless times of joy in it…i owned one when I lived in Southern California and knew I owned it because of Wade’s - he would have busted out one of those huge wade smiles had he seen it loaded with surfboards and me standing proudly next to it. The number 26. He wore it in high school baseball…and so did I. I have worn it on my baseball uniforms since high school, and in college baseball, and every softball team i have played on, and now in the Over 30 League Baseball team i play on. I intentionally have worn it as a tribute to my childhood idol. If a team I played on didn’t have the number i schemed for them to get it - they did. This list could go on for so long that this website would melt down…

I love Wade. Wade loved me. My heart hurts deeply for his family. They lost a living priceless masterpiece work of art. and so did everyone else.

Bobby B
Omaha, NE

From yet another friend…
Hi, my name is Chad and I knew Wade for about 35 years. First of all, I’d like to thank the author of ‘another friend is gone…’ for sharing his thoughts and feelings about Wade and opening doors of conversation for all of us to share. Its nice to know that Wade touched others in his last days as he was such a giving person and loved by so many people.
Like his son Isaac said, making people laugh was his gift and he brought tears to my eyes more times than I can count. He just had to be himself.
I was in Kearney for his funeral service on monday and obviously quite sad. In the back of my mind, I kept hoping to meet someone who knew Wade these last years to share our times and memories together, but it never happened. Then, I found this blog. So again… to the author of the “another friend gone…” THANK YOU!!! It is very comforting to know that his buddies cared enough to give Wade an impromptu memorial service in Council Bluffs to say their goodbyes, pray, and say their peace.
As I sat in Wades mom’s house on monday afternoon, talking to some family and friends,Wades love for music was mentioned quite often. Bob Seger’s “Turn the page” was one tune that was repeatedely mentioned. My anger and frustration about Wade’s passing is difficult to deal with,and as we were reflecting on Wades life, ‘turning the page’ was exactly what we were doing.
While facing such a “senseless and avoidable situation”, I was singing the lyrics in my head, and the opening line,”on a long and lonesome highway ,east of Omaha” hit me like a ton of bricks. It seems as though Wader has found a place he has always been looking for, and finally found some peace. I’m sure he is in a better place.
Wade, you are a special friend, and I will carry fond memories of you with me forever. Your family will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you for giving me the ability to laugh. I just have to be myself. I love you bud. Kuhn

From another friend…
Even in death, Wade brought old friends together. Hi, my name is Cindy Sherman (aka Broekemeier). I spent my most influencial teenage years with Wendy and Wade. Sneaking out to meet up with the brat pack to “hang out”, experimenting in just about every aspect of life. All the while growing up and expanding the friends circle- we were always connected to the brat pack somehow, forging a bond that feels strong even today.

I received a text from Gokie to call her. She told me the version of the story she heard second hand regarding Wade. Absolutely devastating, time ceasing, dreadful reality. How could this happen to Wade? How and where is Wendy? Kim figures out how to conference call JoLyn, and we all reminisce (after telling ourselves how cool we are to be able to do this without the aid of our children!). Remember that time when… laughing. crying, just catching up. Old friends with opposite lives are completely in synch again. That is what Wade did, even in death. He could calibrate a crowd of people and find the common ground amongst all. He was always teasing. Always laughing. I never saw him treat Wendy badly in front of any of us- they were always laughing. I look at my twins, and I see that connection and how special it is, and how hard this must be for you, Wendy.

I just had to find Wendy when I heard the news. I found her information randomly on line thanks to her website. I called and woke her up. She couldn’t place me at first (gotta love our 40’s) and then the ah-hah clicked, and it was like old times. We talked, cried, laughed (sometimes in the same breath). We were both- WOW- Wade really touched a lot of lives. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Wendy, or praying for your family or Wade’s family. I only knew you two, not your spouses or kids, but I imagine they are the most genuine people, because that is who you both are.

Wade, without even knowing it, you have left your mark on us, and we will all carry part of you in our hearts. I am sorry you had to hurt so much on earth. I am sorry I had no idea, or I would’ve been praying for you also. You were never alone, as is obvious from this blog. You had so many people pulling for you. Your family takes comfort in that, as do your old friends. God called you to him, to ease your suffering and show you endless love and acceptance that you struggled to find in yourself.

I had not seen Wade since high school. Thanks for this blog to fill in the blanks and give us all some sense of peace in this madness.

Wade- you went through all this for a reason. Whether it was to pull us all together again, help someone else in need, or maybe it is personal for each of us that knew you to help us battle our own private pain… but I just know in my heart that your time on earth was well spent.

Brock

And finally, from a friend of Wade…a guy that is also a friend of ours that we met downtown sometime ago who has an opinion to share about Wade’s life, death and the wicked web that is homelessness.
“I’m just really wrestling with the fact that he’s gone.”

Praised be Jesus Christ ! Now and forever !

You know, what you express above is what family and friends express as grief and thank God, Wade is really grieved by someone. Frankly though, I am glad that he is “out of it.” yes, it can be said that somehow, he should’ve pulled himself with by his own bootstraps if he really wanted “help.” He shoulda, woulda, coulda a lot of things, but you know what? I ain’t buyin’ it.

Wade’s death, for those of us that knew him and gave a rat’s patootie (like Mikey — by the way, for panhandlers, lake Manawa is very lucrative and the cops don’t hassle as much as they do in Omaha.), his death is a treagedy, but it is an ongoing and gtrowing tragedy.

We lose people every year, but usually to winter’s elements or old age. This is changing now and the numbers are increasing…exponentially.

Someone at sometime is going to have to address and care about the “chronic” homeless: we know who they are. The guys (and gals) who have been in and out of the ’system’ (after all, “treatment” is just “the system” in another manifestation) for a long long time and who, as a result, areore than reluctant to TRUST it in any form again.

“Treatment”? You gotta be joking. “Help”? There is none, not for anyone, not now and not later. The deal is this: Agencies are making big big money from homelessness and people who administer “programs” and “treatment centers’ are lining their pockets and living the good life on the ever-decreasing fat of homeless men and women. It is in No one’s best interests to end homelessness, here or anywhere else. Homelssness provides jobs (for those who administer “programs” and “services” and beyond that no one really cares.

the article was interesting to me in that it hinted that perhaps there was some “assault” involved. A-ha. OK I”ll say the word: HATECRIME> You gotta ask yourself the question: what is it about a guy asking for spare change that is so abhorrent that someone might resort to violence?

No one has mentioned the murders of the campers-out-by-the-river. There are many every year. Personally, I notice that not only do people not give a rat’s patootie, they are becoming hateful and abusive.

C’mon. Let’s talk evil Officer H**ns*n at the park and the new rookies and their (I’m sure that they are just following orders…like the Nazis’s) continual and increasing harrassment of “homeless” people.

yuo! I am pretty angry that a life is wasted. Lest anyone think that it was wasted as a result of alcoholism, forget it. It is much deeper than that. let’s face it: If we take the alcoholism position we can “tsk-tsk”, but ultimately we are blaming the victim.

Let’s call a spade a spade, shall we? The environment that we ALL live in is becoming increasingly hostile and unable to support LIFE, of any kind.

I am sure that whatever happiness most of us can have is either drunk, stoned or high or hanging out with you and Robin on Sunday. least with you, we know that FOR SURE, someone cares. Why do you think so many opf us are turning to Christ?

Our life is a daily Golgotha.

Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled. This is our lot. It isn’t pretty, is it?

So, while grief is appropriate, there is also anger. Anger at the senseless loss of life that needen’t have happened. Not in a million years.

Personally, I aam glad that Wade went to home to God “where there is no pain, no sorrow, no anger and no grief” but most of all, where is is welcomed

in Christ,
Joe Mounsey
Christian Homeless Person
and not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ

And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?
~ Matthew 6:30, NLT

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

Go out and make a difference.

…it matters to that one… :)

Today I received this mail from Melissa, his niece!

Good day Dennis

Some news about Calvin…

He became very sick last week…  terrible pains on his stomach.  We took him to the hospital on Thursday…  They did all kinds of test on him.  Blood, Urine, X-rays and  Sonar’s.  After about 5 hours, the results came back.

They have to remove his gal bladder.  That is what’s causing all the pain.  His pancreas is fine, had a little infection, but he stayed in hospital the whole weekend.  Mom and Dad took him home this morning.  The doctor will remove his gal bladder next week Monday.  He looks much better already.

Oh yes, the doctors also looked for ulcers, and there’s not even one!!!  He’s perfectly fine!!!

{my insert: this report after he lived 10 years on the street as an alcoholic!}

I’ll keep you posted!!!

Have a nice day & week.

Mellisa!

Once again, if you don't know this story, type Calvin in the search box on the right, and read from the bottom up...

Grease is playing lightly on the TV in the background. The 'Hand Jive' scene, my fav. :)

Most of the rest of the day was spent shopping. Sales were everywhere, since the new fall stuff is just coming in. At Anik I found a very cute brown tweed mini by Alice and Trixie- regularly $150- for just $20!

There were plenty of other stores, but my favorite was Kate's Paperie. It was my first time, and the whole experience was absolutely orgasmic! Much better than PZ.

You know how much of a modern design nut I am. Kate's is filled with loads of high-quality stationery. I found an adorable B-day card for Kristina and some plain stock for Thank You cards (I like to design them myself). I'll definitely be back again, especially because they have several stores in the city.

I left just before they closed and headed straight to Central Park. There were several free concerts going on, so I sat down and wrote out a few postcards while listening. I started walking back towards the apartment when I saw a huge crowd of people gathered around... something. With all the mini-concerts going on around the park, the one in front of me wasn't too audible until I got closer.

It was a global percussion group, and they were great. The ensemble seemed to represent the city, and America, quite well.

Buh-buh-daa, buh-buh-daa, the beat went on and on. When one of the drummers would get tired, another would step in and take over. People would hike up their jeans, kick off their sandals, and join in the middle of it all, while sweaty dancers would flow back into the crowd. The large group surrounding the dancers transferred from side to side with the music's energy. WASPs, hipsters, and the homeless were all there in the same moment, enjoying the same music. It was truly a great thing.