By Eleanor Kazdan, September 24, 2020 — I moved to Center City Philadelphia 15 years ago. In the suburbs, I rarely thought about people who were homeless and was not aware of anyone sleeping on the streets. Of course, I became acutely aware of this issue as soon as I moved. People sleeping on the street were nameless to me. Soon I kept seeing the same man in my neighborhood. He slept on the front stoop of various houses and businesses. I met some neighbors who knew his story.
His name was Sonny and he had been a SEPTA bus driver, falling on hard times after he lost his job. He had gone from being pretty middle class to being homeless. Sonny was always well dressed and never asked for money. During the day he would hang out at the corner of 11 and South. He knew lots of people and was usually deep in conversation with someone from the neighborhood. I became a small talk acquaintance of Sonny’s, never getting past saying hello or commenting on the weather.
Sometimes Sonny would disappear for extended periods. I found myself worrying about him, hoping he was alright. Then he would reappear one day and continue hanging out and shmoozing. Once when he surfaced after a long time he was using a white cane and looked somewhat disheveled. The first thing I thought of was untreated diabetes leading to blindness. Still, Sonny kept up his routine of socializing all day long. I saw him with his cane for several years. About a year ago I realized I hadn’t seen Sonny for a long time. I hope he’s okay, but I fear not.
A few years ago, I began to see a woman sitting on the sidewalk on South Street many days. Her head was shaved, and she had a sign that said, “Homeless Vegan.” She sat cross-legged very quietly and never talked to anyone. A few times I gave her some food, always asking, “Can you eat this?” since she was vegan. Very politely she told me yes or no. One day on my way to Whole Foods I offered her something that she couldn’t eat. I decided to buy her some fruit and nuts on my shopping trip. She shyly and gratefully accepted.
I engaged her in conversation for a while. Finding out that she was about 62 years old and not yet eligible for Social Security. I asked her if she had tried staying in a shelter. She told me that she had but that it was horrible, like Dante’s Inferno she said. After that interaction, I didn’t see her for a while until she turned up one day on Walnut Street. I tried smiling at her and gave her some money. She didn’t seem to recognize me. Now I haven’t seen the vegan woman for a long time. I hope she’s alright. Hopefully, she’s gotten Social Security and has a home.
