Our House e-newsletter July 2012 | Page 22

The price of gasoline. I couldn’t afford it. Ah, my little brother, the sage. Something else noteworthy happened this week. I was working at the guard shack about 11:30 the other night, just a few minutes before the end of my shift, when a woman wandered in. She was 64 and had no place to go, seeming very disoriented. We also had no room at our inn, if she had qualified for the program. Normally we have to turn these people away, the worst part of our job, but as I got to gleaning information from her, I realized I was with her in the Crisis Unit a little over a year ago. Wow! What an eye-opener. We didn’t have many options with her, so I got her a Sprite and asked her if she wanted me to call the police to see if they could place her somewhere. I waited ’til after midnight when the police showed up and determined a trip to the hospital would be the best thing for her. She didn’t need another night on the streets. An ambulance came and took her away. Not once did she recognize me. It made me wonder what her life had been like the past year. And how lucky I was that someone was looking out for me. That I’m around people who care, family and friends. Definitely not obsolete. Don’t know about the old ballpark. There had been attempts to save it for the city’s youth, but money got in the way. Shame on somebody.