Atlanta
22/03/08 22:55
There is a certain ease
to living in the south. Atlanta, in spite its vast
amount of poor people, maintains a fascinating
dignity and eloquence that I haven’t seen under such
circumstances. Despite the hot, humid air - and the
fact that Downtown had just been torn apart by a
tornado - they still walk tall, and still smile. The
rhythm in their melodic language and even temper, did
in no way suffer the mood-swings of nature. A living
example of all these wonderful virtues is Homeless
Joe.
He just stood there, hanging. His body bent over from the many years of sleeping on benches and in doorways or whereever he could find shelter. Wearing beat-up sneakers, a pair of torn trainers and a blue’n’black jacket, he spotted us right away. We turned around - not in spite, but merely because we’d taken a wrong turn and hadn’t really noticed him. That’s when we heard his ragged old voice: Excuse me gentlemen, excuse me! We turned around just to realize that although the years had left him ragged and old, they had by no means robbed him of his speed. So, where are you gentlemen from, might I ask? He said and revealed his toothless grin. Denmark, we said mumbling in a mix of surprise and distrust. Homeless Joe lid up. Ahhh, that’s a great country if you don’t mind me saying so. He smiled again, looking as if he’d just met some long lost brothers. We stopped at an intersection due to the don’t walk sign and the giant sized trucks crossing our path.
I see you’re going into town, he said, nodding his head in the direction we were both looking. We nodded and looked tired at each other. Lucky for you, he said, once again flashing his grin. I’m going that way too, to the shelter - it’s just three blocks down. Great place if you ask me, he said affirmingly. Now when you go down to that neighborhood at this hour you’ll be safe, no worries. But when it gets dark, then you definitely don’t wanna go there, that’s for sure. We stopped, looked at his grinning face. Thanks for the heads up, mate. We’ll heed your advice. He looked at us, as if he’d just saved us from the trouble that only two young men traveling can get into - almost fatherly, and said: Now the shelter is such a great place. They really go out of their way to help the poor. How would you feel about helping them and the ones in need.
Homeless Joe got a few dollars, shook our hands and thanked us for helping the shelter. He turned around, walked away and we never saw him again. But the important thing is: he didn’t beg, because the proud people of the south don’t do that. He helped the strangers, the travelers in need. And in return we paid him for volunteering his time to help us. But only because we felt it should be done. Joe never asked for anything but a smile and some consideration for the ones truly in need.
Welcome to Atlanta.
He just stood there, hanging. His body bent over from the many years of sleeping on benches and in doorways or whereever he could find shelter. Wearing beat-up sneakers, a pair of torn trainers and a blue’n’black jacket, he spotted us right away. We turned around - not in spite, but merely because we’d taken a wrong turn and hadn’t really noticed him. That’s when we heard his ragged old voice: Excuse me gentlemen, excuse me! We turned around just to realize that although the years had left him ragged and old, they had by no means robbed him of his speed. So, where are you gentlemen from, might I ask? He said and revealed his toothless grin. Denmark, we said mumbling in a mix of surprise and distrust. Homeless Joe lid up. Ahhh, that’s a great country if you don’t mind me saying so. He smiled again, looking as if he’d just met some long lost brothers. We stopped at an intersection due to the don’t walk sign and the giant sized trucks crossing our path.
I see you’re going into town, he said, nodding his head in the direction we were both looking. We nodded and looked tired at each other. Lucky for you, he said, once again flashing his grin. I’m going that way too, to the shelter - it’s just three blocks down. Great place if you ask me, he said affirmingly. Now when you go down to that neighborhood at this hour you’ll be safe, no worries. But when it gets dark, then you definitely don’t wanna go there, that’s for sure. We stopped, looked at his grinning face. Thanks for the heads up, mate. We’ll heed your advice. He looked at us, as if he’d just saved us from the trouble that only two young men traveling can get into - almost fatherly, and said: Now the shelter is such a great place. They really go out of their way to help the poor. How would you feel about helping them and the ones in need.
Homeless Joe got a few dollars, shook our hands and thanked us for helping the shelter. He turned around, walked away and we never saw him again. But the important thing is: he didn’t beg, because the proud people of the south don’t do that. He helped the strangers, the travelers in need. And in return we paid him for volunteering his time to help us. But only because we felt it should be done. Joe never asked for anything but a smile and some consideration for the ones truly in need.
Welcome to Atlanta.
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