08 March 2009

Man on the corner

Walking to lunch this Saturday in Denver, I saw a homeless man sitting on the corner. My heart went out to him, but I didn't act on it. On the way back, I told myself.

I almost walked past on the way back... but I remembered my earlier promise and walked over, pulling out some singles. My teammates waited up the street, but I'd forgotten them for the moment.

The man's name was Daniel, and he had one of the strongest handshakes I've felt in a while. His eyes showed his gratitude, reminding me of Jesús' smile down in México. He was an Airborne Ranger, now a certified aircraft mechanic. But he can't get a job because he doesn't have a house. 

As I walked away thinking about this, wishing I had done and could do more, I listened to my teammates talking about the race: what they did wrong, venting about other riders, wishing they had done better. But for me, it all seemed so trivial. There was a man there without a home, and we were discussing racing our $1,000 bicycles. 

I scribbled a note as I sat down by a tree, back at the race: We are blind to what we do not wish to see.


  1. I need to read this thing more often. This was strangely uplifting to read. Let me know if you come back this way anytime soon. I'd love to sit down and catch up sometime.

  2. Thanks, Brett... I won't be back until June...