Two Men

Whenever I pass the Meadowport Arch in Prospect Park, I remember its occupant of many years, a man who folded his blankets with military precision, placing them in a corner of the bench on which he slept.  Scrupulously neat in appearance, he usually placed a pile of paper back books on his bench. One day he disappeared and afterwards I regretted my never having said hello to him, in spite of the fact that he seemed encased in his own world and was unlikely to respond.  But last week I found another occupant of his bench inside the arch.  All I could see of him were his legs stretched out along the bench – he was wearing sweatpants - and his feet shod in sneakers.  An opened umbrella shielded his face from public view.

After I passed the Meadowport Arch, I walked on to the nearby Endale Arch, which has a new occupant.  A few weeks ago, I wrote about screwing up my courage to address him.  Now, as I walked towards his arch I wondered if he would be there, since he had been absent for the past few days.  But no, there he was, standing up inside the arch, his arms close to his body – he may have been cold -  his blankets on the ground nearby, and, on a rock outside the arch, an open paperback book.  On sunny days, he would sit there and read.  It was now overcast and raw.  I considered remarking to him that he would have a ring-side seat at the park’s firework display on New Year’s Eve, but I rejected that idea as cruel, in light of his situation.  Instead, I said “good morning,” to which he replied, as he had before, “good morning, sir.”

I tried to imagine myself in the place of these two men, isolated, poor, possibly deranged or addicted, but I found it hard to do so.  If I suddenly discovered myself in their place, it would be like living on another planet, in an alternate world.  How would I solve the problems of finding food, shelter, places to wash?  Where could I keep my few possessions, including my bulky blankets?  How could I keep boredom at bay?  How could I survive if I were cut off from the world of intimate relationships?

Whether these two men are very brave or are simply disconnected from reality, there’s no denying that their lives are hard.  It strikes me now that I rarely see an old man in their position.  If these two men cannot return to the ordinary world, they are not likely to survive into old age.

I wish I knew how to help them.  Saying hello can’t be worth very much.  So my wife and I contribute to organizations for the homeless, in the hope that they will help men like these.


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