Look Who is Sleeping Out Party – NYC Jan 2016
Freehold Networking for Success – Freehold NJ Jan 2016
Polar Bear Plunge For Special Olympics – March 2015
Big Brothers Big Sisters Christmas with Santa @ The Atlantic Club – December 2015
Covenant House NJ SleepOut March Snow storm of 2015 – Amount raised $1,000
Covenant House Search For The Stars – Newark NJ
NY Associates Board Kentucky Derby Party May 2015
Christmas 2015 Fundraiser for Covenant House – Colts Neck NJ – Amount Raised $1,500
WaterMark Fundraiser – Asbury Park, NJ
Big Brothers Big Sisters Halloween Party Oct 2015
Holiday Express Meets Covenant House Dec 2015
Children’s Center of Monmouth and Ocean County with Tim McCloone – Holiday Express
BECAUSE EVERYONE HAS A STORY
One thing I have never been able to or accept, no matter how often I see or witness it, is homelessness and hunger. Upon commuting to New York one day, I decided I couldn’t just look past these people. I felt a sense of guilt as I tried not to make eye contact. So I decided I’d make lunch for them. But for me it still never felt like enough, I felt they were just as important as everyone else, even those dressed in a suit. So one day I decided to introduce myself to one. I decided in that moment my obligation was to tell their story, because I have always believed everyone has a story to tell.
Today I went up to a man sitting on the ground, a little hesitant. Not because he was someone who was homeless, but going up to a complete stranger left me nervous, and to telling them you want to know about their life, without sounding crazy seemed odd. So I handed this guy a bagged lunch and I began to just talk to him. It started with introducing myself. His name was Greg, and his dog he had gotten 3 years ago a pit-bull was named Ennis. “He got skunked a few days ago he smells.” That he did. Greg told me he had grown up in Brooklyn, and was 24 years old. He spent his life traveling on fray trains, and had been to 46 states in the U.S. He said he’s never been to Rhode Island and I told him I used to live there. He seemed intrigued asking what it was like. He sat sewing a jacket talking away about his life, and listening as I told him about mine. I began to feel guilty as he told me he jumped off a train and he left his winter vest his best friend gave him before the guy passed away. “It had a lot of sentimental value. I’m really mad I lost it.”
Immediately I was taken back to Carly, and I looked down at my bracelet with her name. He told me his friend died due to a drug overdose, and that he tried to get him to stop and travel with him. I told him about Carly and her accident and he apologized for my loss. We then talked about his tattoos. “The one on my fingers hurt the most.” He said, revealing a number that read Brooklyn’s area code. He told me his parents had moved to Florida, and he still kept in touch with them, from time to time. I asked where he would be sleeping tonight and he said I don’t know. We talked more about his travels, and he told me how excited he was to hopefully be leaving for Mexico in a few months. He had been to Canada but never Mexico. I asked him what do you think the most misconceived notion is of how people portray you? “We aren’t all drug addicts or alcoholics. Sure some are, but not all of us.” Sitting there on the ground it didn’t feel like I was talking to anyone out of the ordinary. He was a guy with dreadlocks that smelt, like many people I met in college. He wasn’t “a homeless person,” he was just a person. I thanked him for his time and wished him safe travels. As we sat there on the sidewalk a man came up to us and gave Greg dog food for Ennis. I knew in that moment while some people may grow desensitized to people like Greg, not everyone is, and that is what is going to keep the world a better place.
Last week I had handed a man a bagged lunch, and asked for his name. In a friendly tone he responded, “Bill,” and shook my hand. I had given him food for about a month now, he was located every day in the same spot if it was not raining; outside of Penn Station. But every day, I was always very apprehensive about finding out more. It isn’t so much nerves because of their situation, that got me, or the stares I don’t notice, but likely get when I sit next to people in Bill’s situation, but just going up to a stranger and asking about their life is unorthodox.
But this why I do it.
He told me he was from New Jersey, and immediately upon hearing that there was common ground we could build from. I asked where, and he told me Red Bank, and I thought I was there yesterday walking around. He told me he was in foster care throughout his life, and went to Rumson Fair Haven. I told him we used to beat them in volleyball and he laughed saying, “good they are snobby. But I’m not like them.”
Bill told me when he graduated his family moved and he was now on his own. He made an attempt to go to Brookdale but between paying for an apartment and school he couldn’t manage. He had met his girlfriend and moved in with her family, he even helped reconstruct the basement into an apartment. He has experience in construction he told me.
But due to circumstances outside of his control, he was forced to leave his girlfriend’s parent’s house and he turned to New York, as he was told it is easier to be homeless there. Bill went into telling me about how he sleeps in Penn Station on occasion, but cannot do it often because of cops. The subway is much more common and if it is nice outside.
I asked Bill, if I could bring him anything next week, when I would be back he smiled and said no but thank you shaking my hand, saying I’ll see you soon.
I walked to work today with a sense of helplessness I never knew. For most of my life I have been very lucky to be able solve most of my problems, and the bigger ones would resolve themselves in time. But all I thought about were the people I knew in construction, did I know anyone that could help Bill. I don’t know his background fully. But what I do know, is out of most the people I have interacted with in the few weeks, he seemed to be the most alert, the most attentive in conversation and maybe it is in my character to have blind faith but I saw something in him. I left wanting to know so much more, and wanting to help in ways that are beyond my own control.
I had been walking around New York one Friday afternoon in no rush really to get home. I had a Dunkin Donuts gift card, given to me for Christmas despite college having ruined my Dunkin Experience over the years, as that was the only place ever open on campus. I had seen a man sitting down and I quickly ran to Dunkin ordering a large coffee, bagel and a donut. When I returned he wasn’t there. As someone who does not drink coffee or avoids donuts most days I had to give it to someone. The thing about homeless people in the winter is, you find less and less on the streets due to the weather and you find more inebriated or on others substances. Through my observations over the past few months I have learned to pick up on little details about people those same people I admit I walk past on some days. But on days when I make it to the city early and I have time I like to talk to those people who I know are aware and coherent. I eventually found the man after walking a few blocks in circles. I handed it to him and like many they are grateful for anything you give. And as a recent college graduate fortunate to have much help from my parents, he didn’t know but I still only had $5 in my wallet and I haven’t gone to the bank in I don’t know how long. But with the little I do have I find it very important to give to others who are less fortunate. His introduced himself as Eric and shook my hand. Then we just began talking. I asked him where he was from and he replied South Jersey. Immediately I was taken back to the distasteful smell of south Jersey as I did my Senior Thesis climbing through the pine barrens through private property to get a good story to present to my professor. “You must have went to Stockton then,” he said with excitement. I was taken back slightly because not many people in New York have heard of my school. He then proceeded to tell me he lived around the area and was familiar with Atlantic City. He laughed when I told him I was afraid of that area. We talked about current events like the casinos closing down and the affects we predict will happen and may already be happening to the city. He told me about his family. His parents were divorced his father who he didn’t speak to was a millionaire. His mother was a nurse. His birthday was the same month as my own but March 16th. We talked about how he got there and one thing he said that stuck out from the rest was, “I am no harm to anyone but myself.” Before he could elaborate more on a story that was scratching the surface we talks about friendship. I said “Do you think who you associate with impacts where you end up in life.” He looked at me and said absolutely. Our friends and who we associate with will dictate where we end up in life so it is important to choose good people to surround yourself with. The hardest part for me as someone who listens to stories every day is leaving and walking away knowing a lunch and a conversation are all I can do when I want so badly to do so much more.