Sometimes no news is good news

In the fall of 2001, I interviewed three of my chronically homeless friends, “Cee,” “Dee,” and “Jay,” for a paper I was doing for a class at UNCG. All three men were open and honest about their lives, and how they came to be homeless. Shortly after the interview, Cee headed off to Atlanta, where he had some friends and hoped to start his life over. He asked me to take care of his treasured Zenith clock radio, an ancient-looking piece that was the only thing he had left of his family. He said he’d come back and get it from me after he got things together. It still sits on top of a bookshelf in my house, awaiting his return. I think of him often.

Dee and Jay remained on the street in Greensboro. For a long time, Dee mostly hung out in the Tate Street area, when he wasn’t bouncing in and out of rehabs. He disappears for long stretches of time, but then he’ll reappear at Community Dinner, hunched over in the line, with that same sad, set face, and always the same opening line when he sees me — “Michele, I’m not doing too good right now…” I saw him last just a few weeks ago.

Jay stayed on the other side of downtown, under a bridge with a friend. They watched each other’s backs and got work through the day labor place as often as they could. On the days that Jay didn’t get work, he went to the library and played games online. He’d send me emails and instant messages to keep in touch. And he always asked about my children — “How’s my grandkids?” “Dad” has always been my nickname for him. He’s wise and kind. But I stopped hearing from him a while ago. And that worried me.

Today, a message from Jay popped up on my screen. “How are you doing?,” he wanted to know. I told him that I’d been worried about him, because I hadn’t seen him around or heard from him. He told me that he’d gotten “sick and tired of being sick and tired,” and so he got off the street. Well, amen.

Jay’s got a place now. He’s doing well. He said he had a little help, but he gives the credit to God. You and me both, my friend. He gave me his address and said he’d be really pleased if I’d come visit. I can’t wait. I’d be honored to be a guest in his home. Sometimes no news is good news. Now I’m longing for the day when Dee says, “Michele, I’m doing really well now.” — and Cee comes back for his clock…