I was driving with my mom on a Sunday, when I noticed someone laying down inside the alcove of a Chase bank. My foot instinctively hit the brakes, did an illegal U-turn and pulled into the bank parking lot. As I grabbed my camera, my mom and I went over to investigate. At first, all I saw was black dirty feet sticking up and a pair of tattered flip flops to the side.
“Hey man,” I said softly, not wanting to scare the man.
“Yeah?” He replied, propping himself up on his elbows.
What I’ve learned lately is people that live on the streets don’t really sleep. They’re always ready to move real quick if they have to.
“What size shoe you wear man?” I asked, letting him know I meant no harm.
“Ten and a half”, he said, seeming very shy.
“I got some shoes in my car if you want to follow me, you can take your pick.”
Quickly he got up and I shook his hand.
He told me his name was David and he was originally from Watts. He was a very soft spoken and seemed childlike in his demeanor. Once at the back of my car, he chose a black suede high top Nike Blazer with a grey swoosh. Hopefully we brought some comfort into his life as he smiled when we walked away.
