I went to a "rough" part of town on the weekend. My son had a hockey game in a beat up old arena on the wrong side of the tracks. I had about 1/2 hour before the game so I went for a walk. Near this arena there was an LCBO and a Beer Store. As I approached I saw a haggard looking guy begging for empties.
This made me think of French and how he dealt with the homeless people. He'd always dig around and give them something: a coffee, a slice of pizza, change, a swig...something. French was like a lot of people in this regard, but there was one difference; he'd always sit and chat with the person as he gave them his gift. He'd shake their hand, or bump knuckles, and share a quick story or a joke. When he did this I'd always hang back and watch. Somedays it was hard to get French away from the street person, especially if they had a dog, or an instrument.
So I gave this style a go. I was thinking that this guy was going to have a long day without much reward (at 10 -20 cents a bottle). I crouched down beside him cracked a joke or two, gave him some cash and shook his hand. His said his name was Top Jimmy, and Top Jimmy couldn't stop thanking me. It got a bit embarrassing with him calling out "thank-you" and "God Bless yah brotha", until I was out of hearing range.
French and Top Jimmy are pretty good guys.
5 comments:
i have been having a ongoing conversation with Kevin @ http://jimsonweed.blogspot.ca/ he is a guy who photographs people of the street. he is genuine in he knows his place. yes he gets the shot but he gives in return. he told me he carries dollar bills and snacks and knows directions to shelters and has helped along the way. he wants to know the story and he cares. he tells me he learns every day about life and people.
you gave Ollie and you received. French, he is a natural. would love to have a couple of beers with you two, talk about the Hip and swao stories.
~robert
Love it (as always).
Your "French" and my dad sound a lot alike. On a cold winter's day in Toronto, my dad once gave a guy the sweater he was wearing (hand-knit by his mother's Irish hands) right off his back.
I try to live up to that.
I cannot imagine doing this. I can't start a convo with a person in line at the grocery store. or in the seat next to me on a plane. I can't imagine this. My husband is going to Tahoe, skiing, alone. All his friends dropped out. I don't know how he is doing this. I don't think I'm shy, but I never know what to say to people. I loved this piece. Good for you for taking the risk.
someone just posed an interesting question to me as i shared some of your stories, would it make any difference if these people didn't exist outside this blog? quickly i said, no, it wouldn't matter, but then as i settled back into the real question and the significance of it i thought, yes, it does matter. i so badly want you and these people to exist inside this world, ollie. i want you all to be real and i want you to show us a better way. (no, don't go and argue the better way:))
xo
erin
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