| It’s just a few extra cents, but it makes all the difference. I was talking with some friends who are well-versed in the art of giving. They mentioned that the Round Up campaigns you experience in check-out lines are responsible for very large percentages of charitable contributions in America. I had to think about that. It makes sense–The Tunnel is asking for, basically, $5/month, and five bucks, divided by thirty days is… hold on… doing some math… divide by ten… fifty cents every three days, right? That doesn’t seem like a lot of money to help get someone out of the tunnel. If you decide to tell someone about the End of the Tunnel today, maybe throw in that fact. Let’s get your siblings involved. Maybe today’s the day for them to learn about what we’re doing to help. |
Randy Milles
| I’d just been telling my doctor about The Tunnel and answering some questions he had about homelessness. I walked out of the office building and there was Randy Milles sorting through the trash can outside the main door. I stopped and asked him how long he’d been on the street. Honestly, I didn’t understand his answer except that his reply ended with, “…years.” He’d found a zip-lock bag with what looked like plastic toy cookies with fake sprinkles on them. I thought, “Why would someone throw away fake cookies… in a zip-lock?” Turns out they weren’t fake, but ironically, Randy said it tasted like plastic and spit it out. |
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| He said he’d been in the Marine Corps, and lit up when I replied, “Semper Fi.” I never know when someone might me lying about being a vet, but he had a few mean-looking tattoos, and I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt. We chatted for a bit as he continued through the trash. I offered him a ride to the VA and told him all about the other homeless vets I’d met there, hoping he’d accept and take the ride. Alas, he declined and said, “Those beds are there for other guys who deserve them.” I told him about the last guy who shared those sentiments with me, and suggested he was “the other guy.” |
| By the way, that’s not Randy in the pic above–that’s some other dude. Randy didn’t care to have his picture taken because he still has family out there whom he would prefer not to see him at his worst. I get that a lot. It’s times like these when I wonder just what it would take to get a guy like Randy to accept real help. If he won’t take a free ride to get free shelter with free meals (again, this is assuming he was really in the Corps and honorably discharged), what else can I offer him? So, I shook his hand and offered him a ride to the next trash can. He looked at me, then looked to his right at the next trash can, only about a hundred feet away. He laughed like a little kid, and we walked the hundred feet to see what might have been discarded in it. |