Gary

I stopped on Commercial Street this morning and talked with Gary.  I wasn't expecting to hear his story at all.  I was initially struck by the sadness in his eyes, almost as if he was apologizing to me for being on the street before we ever even spoke.  Gary suffered a traumatic brain injury 9 years ago when he was hit by a semi-truck.  He showed me the damage, clearly visible on his head after all these years (see extra).  Several years after the accident he suffered a stroke and has a difficult time communicating now.  I listened and we did our best to have a conversation.  

Gary wanted me to take his photo to share with others. "I used to have a life," he told me.  "Not anymore."  Gary cried and then said "I'm sorry."  I almost lost it too.  I told him he has nothing to be sorry for.  He has no medical attention to speak of, and barely gets by using homeless shelters and food kitchens. I talk with many folks living on the streets, but what Gary said about being sorry has really stuck with me today. He was so cognizant about sitting on the street, in front of a local business, and knowing that nobody wants to see him there, knowing that he has to find a way to be inconspicuous throughout the day, or risk being chased away.  

I was recently asked why I spend time on the street, photographing people like Gary.  I didn't question the person who asked, but all I could say back was that I think it's important to commune with our neighbors.  Every neighbor.  Human connection is vital for all of us, for me as much as it is for Gary.  It's the least I can do.  I'm struggling to find more ways to connect and do more.  Probably TMI for one blip post.  Thanks for reading.