Homeless, But Not Invisible

Well, my friend disappeared. I call him Ron the Homeless Guy (Ron is his first name, I just don't know his last name). When I first started staying in the Arlington, Virginia area in 2006, I occasionally noticed Ron amongst the many homeless folks in the area. He was African-American, about 40 years old, and always wore a heavy coat, even in the summer. His trademark, though, was the black hat he wore at all times. It looked like the hat from the Dr. Seuss book, The Cat in the Hat, except it was black. Ron never bothered anyone, he just stayed in the background. This changed for me on the evening of September 28, 2006 while I was watching the news in my apartment. I saw an incredible person, John-Michael Keyes, talking about the murder of his 16 year old daughter, Emily Keyes. Emily had been taken hostage at Platte Canyon High School in Colorado along with 6 other students by a gunman (this site will always try to avoid publishing the names of criminals in an effort to make sure they don't receive any notoriety). Emily managed to send a text from her cellphone to her family from inside the room when the gunman looked away - "I love u guys." As the crisis wore on, the gunman released several of the students, then told hostage negotiators that he would release no more and gave an indication he would kill the two girls remaining in the room. When the police entered the room, the gunman used Emily as a human shield, then shot her in the back of the head, killing her instantly. As I watched Emily's father talking on the news, I was floored by his words, "I challenge everyone listening to me to commit a random act of kindness in honor of Emily." I left my 8th floor apartment, went outside, and found Ron huddled in an alley on the side of the building. I asked him if he needed some help, and gave him a little money for food. (BTW, the Keyes family also formed a foundation in Emily's memory that can be found on the internet at: http://iloveuguys.org )

Over the next few years, I saw Ron almost every day I was in the DC area. I got to know him and his story. He fixed cars, but had not had any work in a long time. He had lived with his mother, but she died and he had nowhere to stay, so he stayed on the street. He talked to some local churches, and they sometimes gave him a meal, but they told him they would only help him longterm if he "accepted Jesus as his savior." Ron said he didn't feel that he could do that, so he continued living on the street. He had a kindness about him that is hard to describe. I helped Ron whenever I saw him, and we always had conversations about things like the weather (his favorite topic since he was so close to it).

One day during this past harsh winter, I had had a particularly difficult day. When I saw Ron that evening as I walked home to my apartment, I stopped and asked him if I could buy him dinner. Ron thanked me as I gave him a few dollars, and as I walked away, he called to me. I stopped and turned around. Ron had a look on his face like he understood the down mood I was in. He asked, "How was your day today?" I couldn't help but smile, and replied, "It just got a whole lot better, Ron." As I walked home I couldn't stop smiling, and also feeling a little ashamed at the self-pity I had been immersed in just a few minutes before.

Another shared experience I had with Ron related to his smoking. I often caught him smoking those little cigarellos I hadn't seen in years. Whenever I did, I would always say, "Ron, you need to quit smoking, those things will kill you." Ron always came back with the same reply, "That's the idea, Dave." Then we would both have a little chuckle.

As I said, this was a particularly harsh winter in DC. Not only was it very cold, but we had 3 blizzards with more than a foot of snow. I got very sick for the better part of 5 months. Whenever I saw Ron, I could tell that he was having a hard time with the weather. The last time I saw Ron, in January, he seemed to be doing okay. I gave him a CVS gift card, and wished him well. I wasn't around much for the next two months due to illness. When I returned to my normal routine in March, I never saw Ron again. This was very unusual since I had seen him almost every day for the past 4 years.

A few days ago, I finally bumped into the Arlington police officer who does foot-patrol in the Mall where Ron often hung out. I asked him about Ron, described him, and he said he had no idea who I was talking about. I realized that the police officer never had Ron on his radar, because he did not make any trouble. Ron was invisible to the police, and to many others. My last hope was the security guard at the bank in the back of the Mall. I saw him yesterday and described Ron to him. He said, "I know that guy, I help him out when I can." But he said he hadn't seen him since January either.

So, it seems that Ron has either passed away, or moved away. Interesting, and a little sad, that homeless people can be almost invisible in our society. But they still matter, and can have an impact on others, just like Ron did with me. I hope that he is okay, and finally got to a place with a little warmer weather. Good luck, Ron!