Life at Kelly's

There was a guy in the bar who was always glowering at me. This was about 15 years ago at the old Kelly's Tavern, a long-gone dive bar at Third and Bell in Seattle. I never saw this guy talking to anyone, just nursing a beer and looking a little menacing.

In other words, a perfect guy for me to connect with, or so I thought.

For months he would see me across the bar, and watch me. I never said anything to him, he never said anything to me, or to anyone for that matter, except to order whatever draft beer was cheap.

After weeks of this, I had my perfect moment. Just as I walked into Kelly’s, he walked into the men’s room. I could see where he left his beer and back pack, so I settled in next to his spot with my diet Pepsi.

He comes back out, plops down next to me.

“Seen you around.”

“Yep.”

It went downhill from there. He responded to “internal stimulus” as they say. Little green men were making sure we were unable to find our way to the escape hatch through to the 4^th dimension under our flat earth. It was like uncorking a bottle of very colorful carbonated home brew, which someone had set on a warm windowsill before shaking up. Once all the foam had sprayed out, there was nothing left, so he bid me goodnight, and moved on. Never saw him again.

For people who think there are easy answers to every social ill, I want you to consider hanging out in a dive bar for a month or so.

Thank you Pastor Bob Bradbury

Pastor Bob Bradbury was one of the earliest Nightwatch outreach ministers, starting in 1967. He was a classmate of Bud Palmberg, our founder. Pastor Bob passed away in December, 2016, and his widow Jane Ann sent me this amazing story. He told the story on Father's Day last year - his final sermon. I'm guessing he has told this story many times:

The Story of Pedro in 1967: While coming upon First and Pike after midnight, Pastor Bob heard this loud, foul-mouth exclamation from the alley, and encountered a huge African American man, pounding his fists bloody against the rough wall of a building. 

“STOP IT” Bob yelled at him loudly.  “YOU”RE A CHILD OF GOD AND GOD LOVES YOU--  NOW STOP IT.”  

Pedro replied, “I just thumped a guy and I said I would never do that again, but I just did.”  Seeing his clerical collar, Pedro continued, “I am a child of the devil.”  

“You were conceived out of love, and you are NOT a child of the devil.  Now STOP hurting yourself.” 

By this time the cops were on the scene, and Pastor Bob could hear the sirens of an aid car coming. “Now we are getting help for your bloody hands, and you need to know you are loved,” Pastor Bob told Pedro.

The cops had their clubs drawn, just in case, but of course they were not necessary.  “That was the finest sermon I have ever heard,” said one of the cops.  The cop said to Bob that they had had much trouble with Pedro, and told Bob that they never have seen him calm down the way Bob got him calmed down.  

Pedro turned to Bob just before he entered the aid car, and said, ”Father, I will never forget you and the way you helped me.”  And Bob never forgot him, either.

Jane Ann said that Pastor Bob told that story as though it just happened. But it was 50 years later. 

Nightwatch turns 50 this year. We hope you will help us lay the foundation for another 50 years, through your generous support. www.seattlenightwatch.org