Henry hasn’t had a change of clothes in years, not months, but several years. His curled toenails protrude from the front of his shoes like hood ornaments on a 71 Cadillac. The back of his pants… well, there is no back to his pants. I spent over an hour trying to get him to accept a coat – he almost took it… but not quite.
Henry is a sweet and gentle soul. I know what to do! If he should find the coat in the garbage, then he’ll take it; so, I’m going to be one step ahead of him on Friday and stick the coat in the can where he likes to hang out (he’ll have forgotten our conversation by Friday). I’ll stand in the shadows to make sure he gets it.
Here’s how sweet Henry is: What compelled him to almost take the coat, was when I would tell him how hurt I would be, and how much sleep I would lose knowing he was out in the streets without a coat. Isn’t that somethin’ … more concerned for me than himself. Wow.
If he does not take the coat (and pants), then I think I’ll have to make some phone calls, as this is a serious problem. Many people freeze to death in Chicago winters.
I know several mentally impaired folks, but he’s the only one without sense enough to keep warm. End of week forecast 11* at night with gusty northwest winds 12-24 mph… not quite cold enough to kill, but berrrrr!!!
(Note: Names have been changed in order to maintain anonymity)
UPDATE: I made several efforts over the past week to get Henry new pants and a warm coat, to no avail. Yesterday I called 311, the emergency homeless service number, and they purportedly sent someone out to see if they could get Henry to accept help.