Occidental Park should be grand – it’s a lovely brick plaza with big leafy trees and totem poles, but more often than not it’s a gathering place for forgotten people. The plaza is often littered with wet trash and, let’s face, it can be kind of smelly. Every now and then, it gets a nice scrubbing but mostly, it’s a hangout for homeless and transient types, probably because there are plenty of places to sit and nobody seems to hassle anyone to move on.
I was early for my 10am meeting so I went for a walk around Pioneer Square. A bicycle cop in goggles rolled past me, scanning the park for sleepers, maybe. I went into the bakery to pick up some bread for dinner and to grab a cup of coffee. When I came out, the same cop was handing a paper bag from Starbucks to a big guy wearing several layers of clothing and surrounded by a hodge podge of shopping bags, daypacks, and stuff. The big guy was looking at him, squinty eyed, and the cop was saying something that I could mostly make out. “I know you have lots of papers to fill out and hey, you need your strength for that. I want you to have a good start to your day, you’ve got lots to do.” It seemed like he knew the guy, knew his story, and I’m willing to bet he stopped in to the Starbucks and paid for this guy’s breakfast out of his own pocket.
I think the cop had a halo.
Thanks, this was a good story to start the day. It struck me that maybe the cop didn’t only know the fellow’s story, but there might be a shared link where the outcome is radically different (e.g. both veterans, came from the same town, etc.). We often do not want to recognize the fact that a very thin line is separating us and the homeless.
Seeing it happen was a good way to start MY day, too.
I wish we ALL could see that, and learn from it.