This might be better in an open thread but I wanted to give a good picture of my new acquaintance and it’s too big for a comment.
Like many others here, I try to help anyone I can. I have taken in two homeless women and their children (not at the same time) and kept them until they saved enough to afford to move. I buy food for those who are hungry and are begging for help on the street... in any way I can.
I need some advice on the latest needy soul whose path has crossed mine.
The week before Christmas on my daily commute home to Coatesville PA from Philadelphia, a wizened old guy happened onto the seat across from me. Bearded and carrying what looked like a cocktail (but could be ginger-ale), he struggled onto the train sagging beneath the weight of a loaded backpack. After telling him that the seat was available facing me and another man, I continued reading my book. He stopped me by breathlessly saying, in a slight southern drawl, that he’d been travelling all day from Virginia – he was headed for the Coatesville Veteran’s medical center.
He’d been travelling all day by train and was glad to finally be close to his destination. My seatmate asked him what war he’d been in. He said he’d been to Viet Nam and I asked what branch. He said he’d been a Marine and then, "... 8 years, 6 months and 24 days"
Then he said that he had brothers who’d served in WWII and Korea... he was the youngest of 12 kids and his story really touched me. I put away my book and his story unfolded as he answered my questions. (I have omitted the questions :~)
Born to a Cherokee Indian man (of the Eastern Band in North Carolina) and a British mother. He grew up on a farm in Virginia with his 11 siblings- six brothers and five sisters. He was the baby of the family. He said that they were share croppers and working the farm was very hard work. They raised about 2000 chickens per year as well as a beef or two and some pigs. His mom made all their clothes many times using the feed bags. He said that the chicken-feed bags were colorful and made some nice clothing. He told of many different facets of farm life and growing up.
He told his story in spurts and I was intrigued. He’d been stationed in Germany after Nam and brought his German wife here. He has four children (in Florida) and six grandkids. I offered him a ride from the train station to the VA but he said that he’d get a coffee and call his friend for a ride. As we got to the end of the train ride, he said how tired he was and how hungry. Oh what he wouldn’t give for a bowl of white beans and a piece of cornbread.
I thought about John the next day and called the VA center to see if I could contact him. I was rudely told that they couldn’t tell me anything if I didn’t have a birth date or SSN for a patient (patient privacy.) I stopped by on my way home and found him unconscious in his bed. I left him a note.
Next day, I got the fixins and made some white beans and cornbread and took it to the VA med. Center on Saturday – John was unconscious again and I left the food and a note with my phone number.
John called and thanked me and said that the beans had been the best meal he’d had in a year. The food at the center was turkey and chicken over and over.
I made beef stew on Saturday and took some to him on Sunday. He asked could I take him for cigarettes and some slippers as his stuff was locked away ‘till Monday. I took him out and he got some footwear and smokes and snuff and coffee and then back to the VA.
A condensed wrap-up...
After a few days, John was to be released and called and told me that he’d be staying with a friend and could I take him there. On the way, he wanted to stop and get some beer and some liquor and more cigarettes and snuff. I took him to the various stores and delivered him to the friend’s apartment - another Vet whose first and middle names are Douglas MacArthur.
That night, I got a call from John saying that he was sick and wanted to go to the hospital. I went and picked him up and he was in a lot of pain and said he thought he’d had a seizure. He was also quite drunk. I took him to the hospital where he had a seizure in the emergency room. Seems that among his injuries in Viet Nam, he got a bullet to the pancreas. The doctor smelled the liquor on him and told me that he shouldn’t be drinking, he was having a pancreatic attack.
I went to the hospital the next day and found that he had checked himself out. He was back at Doug’s and when I went there, I found him drinking beer. He said that he’d be going the VA medical center in Lebanon PA and would I take him there... he wanted to stop at the liquor store on the way and he got another pint. He drank it on the 50 mile trip and by the time we got there, he was in pain.
Got another call with John asking for a ride back down here to the Coatesville medical center. When we got near, he wanted to stop again and get some liquor. I didn’t want to take him but he said that I could just let him out in town and he’d get back by bus... I took him and dropped him off at the medical center. He said that he’s is allowed to have liquor but I saw it was a lie because he hid the pint before going into the center.
Last night I got a call from John asking me to bring him some cigarettes and I will but I am worried that he’ll ask to go to the liquor store again... I don’t know if I should refuse to take him or what.
I thought I was helping out an old guy who needed a friend. I don’t know if I should enable his chronic addiction to alcohol when it is obviously ravaging his body.
Any advice/suggestions?
UPDATE: I took John cigarettes and snuff and the black-eyed peas and cornbread. He asked to go and get fresh coffee... I said sure but that I wouldn't take him to the liquor store. He (emphatically) said that he was done with drinking and he wouldn't ask me to take him again....
I think he may get well. :-)