good samaritan patrol

A few weeks ago I was asked if I was interested in doing the "Good Samaritan Patrol" for Wayside Christian Mission in Louisville. Some of the people who usually do this were ill or travelling and they had some openings for early in the week.

The Good Samaritan Patrol is where you drive around in the Wayside red Jeep, going to the camps and to the various places where people try to find refuge at night. The job is to take coffee, sandwiches, and whatever warm clothing we can find to the folks who may not want to stay in the shelter. We'll also give anyone a ride to the shelter if they decide to go in for the night.

The key to safety here is the red jeep. Everyone knows the red jeep. Most of the folks who do not stay in the shelters are too in love with their addictions than their need to be warm and safe. Some of the folks you may run into may not be at their best capacity. Calling at someone to see if they're alright might antagonize them. I'm always amazed that someone may be startled up on edge at first, but by the time the recognize the jeep, they come up to you as if you are a long lost friend.

I just finished another Samaritan run. The weather was warmer, but raining. Most of the usual camps I visit were vacant, and the usual places were people hang out were empty as well. The second street folks were there, but not as many. It's troubling because you know they're out there, but you just don't know where. You try to find as many overpasses as you can, looking to see if they are taking refuge right below the expressway.

I heard it all changes as the weather warms up. The camps that are deserted during the winter become populated when the weather breaks.

It's kind of peaceful while you're driving around. It makes you appreciate everything you do have. It also makes you look at things in a totally different way. I can't drive over an expressway without knowing that I just went over someone's home. I know the symbols and paths that lead to camps that thousands of people drive by everyday not having any idea there are people living there.

There's an odd irony to how many restaurants are literally right across the streets from camps. The irony of how much food is thrown away, and there's a guy across the street who hasn't eaten all day.