Tag: City Hall Park

David aka Meatwad

The road to recovery can be bumpy. Just cannot give up hope. David fell off the wagon again, to use a trite term, which used to refer just to drinking, but now, who knows. He’s got no place to go and no place to hide, except the park and the street. Warm today. Tomorrow, could be cold. After all, it’s Vermont.

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Nicknamed after a raffish cartoon character, he resumed his birth calling, David. He had a place to live and some work. He lasted for close to a year. Too soon to know when he’ll return or as what.

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When I saw him over the past few days he said needed to bolt from Dodge. He asked for $10 for a bus, like they would have let him take a bus ride somewhere. Then he asked me what I would do if someone said something about my Mother. Don’t know why they would, but I don’t care. She and I had a difficult relationship which should be of no mind to anyone. He obviously does care and something obviously happened which if I knew, I could explain, but not understand. Lots of people die in the name of religion, love and mothers. And some even blame their failures on them.

 

 

Burlington Rains Again

Out early. Not much movement. The sun didn’t appear. No peek through for the breakwater. Overrun with water, the birds barely have a place to sit, at least from where I stand. Too humid for comfort, air also has some sediment from a fire which burns in my eyes. Cannot drink my coffee. Out of here.

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Kids at Camp Gan cannot figure out what to do. Supposed to go on a boat ride. No way to challenge the lightning or rain. What to do?

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Kelly sits on Cherry St, moved from Main. People complain she has a place to live and doesn’t need to beg. Its her job. But she sits in the sun, dressed well, courteous to a fault. Not many who don’t know her or can pass her by. Misses Paul.

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Richard stays sober until he doesn’t. Hasn’t had to go back to treatment. Hangs out near Lowe’s and Hannafords. Ramp out of order for him. Ruggededly handsome. Lives nearby in the woods, somewhere.

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Don’t have his name. He has mine. Struggling. Living in the woods. Hasn’t smoked in a while. Sweet and kind. Has friends.

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A musician. Used to play a horn. Lost his teeth. Never saw him before. James Harvey, he calls himself. Been around here longer than I have. Has a brown dog. Looking to pick himself up and play again in the fall.

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Ed Larrabee. Met him at the beach. He ventured to North Beach to escape the craziness on Church Street. Has a heritage he can be proud of. No place to live but he knew where he was going to crash tonight. Has a book about the Middle East which he wants to read, but he fears he doesn’t know enough to make it worthwhile. Understands people, but not injustice. Exudes self-confidence and personal strength.

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Don’t ask me how any of them arrived in a place where I can picture them. And, they don’t ask me why I am in their midst.

Amber’s Projecting


I met Amber a few years ago when she visited Paul. With the hat and heavy coat I didn’t recognize her. Reappeared in City Hall Park the other day. She was looking for me. Wants to work on a photography project with me for school. Her assignment is to find a local photographer to shoot.

She didn’t have a camera; lost the charger. I shot. She posed. We bothered a few passersby to hold a small reflector. The light at 12:00 poked through the bare trees harshly, bouncing off the metal sculptures. No time to head for cover.

Then we walked down to little park in front of the Men’s Room hair salon. Bitterly cold. Low, unremitting light.

 

 

 

Richard North Exiled To Main Street


Richard used to control the area near Price Chopper in South Burlington. He has been put off Church St and barred from City Hall Park. But he hasn’t given up on Burlington, yet.

Tough work, if you can deal with sitting on the pavement. Paul used to say it was good work if you could deal with the rain and wind. Paul died on a grate. Richard doesn’t sit alone. Skippy sits nearby, alert and oblivious.

And then there was this new guy who said when I asked him his name, “I have been called many names….”

 

 

 

Occupy City Hall Park-2


A tent has been erected in City Hall Park. When I asked what it was, a genius replied, “its a tent.” Later investigation revealed its a place to meet. Who will meet or what they will meet about remains a question. What their legal title or authority to live in a public space remains equally problematical.

John’s dressed to the nines for a court appearance. He wears medals that signify nothing, but he wears them proudly.

Lots of optimism here. Neither needs a reason to be; they just are.


Occupy City Hall Park

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Not sure I understand the movement as constituted in Burlington VT. Stood around for a while listening. One guy complained that college costs at UVM were too high to send his kid to school. One guy said his kid left him to go live with his mother because the father could not support the kid in the manner the kid wanted to be supported (which could be why the mom left).

“What am I doing here,” he asks himself.

Amanda shares her views at the Community Forum. “I have a place to put a legal tent,” she told Stuart Ledbetter, a TV news reporter. “I ain’t on drugs. Don’t see nothing wrong with sleeping in the park… I am exercising my 1st Amendment rights to protest.”

Larry seems happy being Larry, though he’s coughing  and wheezing, wondering what to do when the cold hits. Could have a place if he would take care of Scotty, whom he says is too crazy to live with. “He could burn the place down while I am sleeping.”

An accident that didn’t kill anyone, but could have. Mother pushed the kid out from between the cars. Her leg got nicked. Baggage squashed.

Greg took too much sun to his face this summer. Spent his money unwisely, so he cannot travel to Texas for the winter. He is staying at St. Paul’s with Debbie, where my show,”God Faces the Street,” opened this week.

Eddie Knows Where Its At

 

I watched the cops frisk him when he got here in April. He acted friendly, offering things to people, talking a mile a minute. Came up from Fla., he said. Never spoke with him until mid-September. Interesting guy.

“Been all around. Make my money recycling. I know where to go; usually its where no one else goes. I make a living and live on it. Worked in Arkansas on a chicken farm for Tyson. Hard work. They give you vitamins to strengthen your forearm muscles. You got to hang 30 chickens a minute or they put you in the slow lane–20 chickens a minute, but they are wet. Lot of women work, doing chickens; strong women.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paul Fixes a Guitar

He wanted to speak photography. Has a camera received for doing body work on a car, in addition to $300. Has my card on his coffee table. Chased me down for ablums I left in a bag on the bench, next the woman who thought I might shoot her image and the guy, Greg, who wants to leave but who may not have told her and who didn’t want his image which she took, and kept working on his guitar.

He used a tool which a friend had given him that day.