It's spring in Dallas, and Deacon Brown is back on the street. I don't know where he goes in winter, but once the weather gets unsupportably cold, he disappears for a few months, perhaps to a homeless shelter or other place of refuge.
Deacon Brown is a tall African American man of indeterminate age, with a ready smile that shows the ravages of time, a handful of homemade religious tracts, and an incurably cheerful demeanor. He greets everyone, hands out a tract and, of course, asks for a donation. His cheerfulness is contagious and usually prompts me to find spare change, or buy him food from the nearby pharmacy.
He's a little thinner this year, and there's a hint of bewilderment in his eyes that I haven't seen before. But he greeted me with enthusiasm even though I had no cash and we exchanged our usual greetings. I wonder about his background, how he came to be where he is, and I accept that I will probably never know. However, he is one homeless person who is not just a face on the street, alone and forgotten. He is a friend.
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Sounds like an interesting man. There is a Deacon Brown type character milling around in my head, waiting for the right story of mine to make an appearance in. Some day.
ReplyDeleteThere is a homeless man in my area whom I went to high school with. He used to write and play French horn. When I see him at the local McDonald's sometimes, I'll see with him and talk for a bit. I hadn't seen him in over twenty years, and when I sat with him he referred to me by name. Great memory and a sharp mind. Troubled family situation (since high school years) and he's homeless by choice, or so I am told.
There are very interesting people out there, if we take the time to pay attention, as you obviously have.
Thank you! I need to get a picture of him one of these days, but I don't want to intrude or make him nervous. And I always think "there but for the grace of [someone -- not sure about the God thing] go I."
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