I am forever in search of things that will bring me perspective – whether that’s the beautiful sunrises & sunsets I am so fortunate to catch glimpses of & share so many days, or the perspective music, film & art bring to my mind & life.
About 10 days ago in August, I saw something that gave me perspective but also delivered great sadness to my heart & mind.
There’s a homeless man in my neighborhood whom I’ve known for at least 15 years. He has taken his lumps in this life. He was raised in Brownsville, Brooklyn – still a very rough neighborhood even in a gentrified Brooklyn. His name is Shah & he’s always told me was a rough family situation, too.
Courtesy of a foolish brother, Shah got mixed up in a gun-running scheme from Virginia to New York about 30 years ago & did 15 years hard time in Sing-Sing & other prisons. He’d been brutalized in those jails. Scars from various beatings from other inmates & guards show on his head – plain as day; plainer still after he’s cobbled together some cash for a haircut. We’ve had a few dinners together over the years – a couple of slices of pizza, mostly & usually after 3am. I have heard the stories that led him to my neighborhood.
This man is a good man who’s had a very rough life.
A few times a year, he vanishes to stay with a sister in Jersey or his mother who is still in Brooklyn. Those trips shatter his pride because of the life he’s lived, but it’s winter & too cold or it’s summer & too hot. When he’s been gone for too long of late, my age & experience leads me to wonder if he’s vanished for good this time – either that he’s died or found some way to make a better life elsewhere.
His 55th birthday was in early May & I had not seen him in the 3 months since until about 3 weeks ago. I was rushing by on my way to the subway, but clearly saw this man – my friend of 15 years – on the ground, next to a wheelchair. Over the next 2 weeks, I never happened to catch him out on the streets until last Saturday evening.
As I crossed 87th Street & Lexington Avenue, I could see someone out of the corner of my eye – it was Shah rolling slowly towards me.
He reached out to me & said “Come ‘ere…”
I attempted to give him dukes as I had for most of the last 15 years.
“But, I need a hug, brother,” he said. As I moved in to hug him, I looked down to see no legs below both of his knees.
“What the fuck happened, man?”
He proceeded to tell me the story about how he had gotten on the 6 train up to 110th Street & got off the train there to sleep for the night.
As he did, he ran into a guy whom he’d seen around before – another man with no home – who was smoking K2 (synthetic weed). Apparently, K2 can make you extremely irritable & this guy didn’t like having to share his subway platform domicile with someone else.
So, just as the next 6 train came into the station, Shah got pushed onto the tracks. He scurried away fast enough to not get crushed to death, but the train did sever his legs just below the knee.
After Shah told me the story, I asked him if they got the guy who did it & he said, “Yeah, doing 8 & a 1/2 – 25 on attempted murder.”
His eyes began to well up a bit, as did mine. Knowing that it’s tough enough to be on the street with 2 decent legs, I asked him, “What’re you going to do?”
He said, “You’re looking at it. But, God is good.”
I was shocked by his optimism in spite of this horrendous occurrence.
Later that night, we were having dinner with some family whose health has been a bit up in the air the last several months. I turned to my wife & said, “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a trouble in the world.”
Perspective can do that to you.
Note: As I headed into work this morning, I saw Shah & he told me that he’s getting prosthetic legs in the next few weeks.