During this very task-congested time, these two weeks prior to the Annual Thanksgiving Dinner for the Homeless, it’s difficult not to think about the many homeless and hungry poor whose lives intersected with mine over the past 28 years. Many of those who survived the crack pandemic of the 90’s were lucky to get themselves off the streets, out of the tunnels, away from the intense uncertainties of survival when the only thing that mattered was having enough money to get that next fix. Many of them, of course, simply died forgotten deaths, particles of dust in the wind, memories erased by the speed of light and life in a very complicated city.
Anthony Taille, a journalist from Montreal, writes eloquently, soulfully and accurately about topics that have long lost their newsworthiness by our 24 hour cable news network standard. His article on the Mole People, in my opinion, harnesses precisely the essence of urban homelessness. He writes with courage and daring, painting a vivid image out of the grayness of homeless living.
Please, read the piece, slowly and deliberately and simply try to imagine. It won’t be easy, I assure you.