Blast from the past
Took three college students around last night. We were drowning in pastries, so we shared with Tent City and with St. Martin de Porres shelter. Took coffee to Bread of Life.
Then went to the old neighborhood, parking in front of 91 Wall Street, Nightwatch location from 1994 to 1997.
It was so quiet and weird.
There wasn't a single homeless person around anywhere. The block of the Millionair Club was deserted. First Avenue was quiet except for the required intense conversation between a 27 year old office worker and her next boyfriend as they had a smoke outside the organic restaurant.
I stood in the alley where so many homeless guys have pissed, and told my impressionable companions this story.
Mid afternoon, on a hot day in the summer. I come into the alley to dump the trash. Some guy is sleeping right in the middle of the alley, totally exposed to the sun and God and the garbage trucks that rumbled by constantly.
I lean over him. "Hey, buddy! Are you okay?"
He feebly lifts his head. "Yeah, it's all good."
But I could see the chewing gum from the alley stuck to the back of his head. Not good.