I will only use her first name: Desi.
Today is Desi's birthday. But on February 8, 1992, I was in a grocery store rounding up what non-perishables I could afford which could be kept in my car, and would be returning to my parking/sleeping place of 3 months, after the shopping was done.
By nothing but luck, Desi and I ran into each other in the store. We had not seen each other for at least 6 months or longer. She asked how I was doing.
I was tired of lying to everyone and saying, "Everything's good. I'm doing fine. You?"....So, I told her the truth....(To paraphrase, seeing that this was 19 years ago) "Desi, I have been living in my car on Conner Island for about 3 months and I'm not far away from either losing my mind or freezing to death."
I got as far as the part about living in my car when the look on her face turned to pure horror, shame, embarassement, and other things I'm still not sure of to this day.
She immediately took charge of the rest of the conversation, AND my life, from there. It went something like this (again, to paraphrase)-"You will go and get whatever you need, from WHEREVER you need it, and YOU WILL get your ass up to my house! I will NOT take no for an answer, you will pay NO rent, and you WILL get back on your feet! Now, what all do I need to buy while we're here?"
Honestly, I didn't believe a word that came out of her mouth.
After saying all of that, she began crying and hugged my neck. I was so emotionally numb by then, it almost didn't make sense to me. The only thing which did, in fact, was that I suddenly wouldn't have to spend the night in my car and was at least relieved by it. It could've been that I was in complete shock. I'm still not sure.
But, I didn't allow myself to believe any of it until I was actually in the house, until the few hours of partying was over, and I was actually in a bed with a decent blanket, a decent pillow, and a heater vent in the room. I even got to watch television for the first night in months. It may have been news, but I loved it!
Within a month, I was watching news which was not so mundane; Footage of Rodney King incident in Los Angeles. In those days, the big 3 networks (ABC, NBC and CBS) showed at night what the censors wouldn't allow them to show on the evening news. I was quite dismayed at what I was seeing, until it began running on a loop (as 24 hour media outlets do things, these days), even though the network showed the entire unedited incident.
The riots didn't happen until a few months later, so the newness of the beating did wear off. Something like that should not be placed on a loop for people to become desensitized to. Anything like that, in this country, regardless of whose fault it is, should be shown in very small doses. What evolved over the next few months was intense, brutal, and the television was merely a 9 inch portable black and white that was picking up a station by antenna. Enough digression.
Desi and all her female friends took very good care of me, over the next few months. Not only did they make sure I never went without anything (though I was working my ass off at the time), always had a party favor or 2 at the ready when I got home from work, always allowed me to pick out what to eat (except for when they picked up, elsewhere), and ran everyone off if they determined I was tired and needed to go to sleep. It's amazing to me how immature we all were, yet how well we treated each other in those days. If only life could be as simple now as it were, in our early 20s (once I was out of my car, of course).
I moved back in with my parents during the middle of June and stayed until the end of July. I figured it was more than time to at least save up elsewhere. I had more than worn out my welcome, though none of those gals ever complained. Leaving there was emotionally wrecking on all of us, because we all stopped to remember how it all came about in the first place. It was intense, bittersweet, and we still talk about the fond memories of those days.
In the past 5 years, Desi has lost her mother to lung cancer, her husband to liver and kidney failure, and her only sister to kidney failure. She has one son who is now 18 and will graduate high school this year. How time flies, how sad life can be, and how hard it sometimes is to look for, let alone find, a silver lining in a situation like that.
Desi's grandmother, on her father's side, is the last generation of renegades from the Cherokee Indian tribe (during the Trail Of Tears) who escaped to a cave around Paint Rock, Alabama, and formed a new tribe called Echotah. The tribe now goes by Echota Cherokee.
Truly amazing, the stories and histories people's lives and families contain and all that's required is that they tell something about it. If we all did that with each other, maybe the world would be a better place. Maybe, the world wouldn't be so cold. Maybe, people would learn how to be better friends. I know I'm better for that experience. I really wish people could've seen how it all unfolded. I honestly believe, and always will, that even the most mature of adults would've been surprised at how well we treated each other.
I cannot post a photo of Desi or her family, because she and her father are VERY private people. What I will do, instead, is post a photo of the tribe's logo and a link to the site. I hope you will visit the site. It's interesting and almost holy.
Happy Birthday, Desi. I will always love and thank you for what you did, and will always find a way to pay it forward. You taught me well.
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