In Jan. 20 of this year, an incident occurred in Camps Springs, Maryland at a world famous fast-food restaurant chain location that sells billions of hamburgers. For legal reasons, I cannot use their name or logo but the owners want so much for the community to know how much they appreciate the random act of kindness and bravery performed by an anonymous homeless man that day. The employees were familiar with him, but no one knew his real name or story. They just knew that he was a shy, quiet, and big guy who kept to himself and had developed a sort of special friendship with one of the female managers on the evening shift. He would actually talk to her and practically no one else unless he was ordering.
On this early evening, a young man entered the restaurant and attempted to rob it, threatening the very same manager. The robber waved a gun, moved behind the counter, and demanded access to the registers. That’s when the man experiencing homelessness, who frequently visits that location to seek warmth and to feel a part of something, sprang into action and intervened. All were amazed as he bravely confronted the would-be robber and, after a tussle, managed to wrestle him to the floor disarm him and prevent any harm to “his friend” the manager, and the other staff members or customers. While the unhoused man who had instinctively risked his life was checking on the well-being of all the others, the assailant got up and fled the scene before anyone realized it or the police arrived. Thankfully no one was physically injured although everyone was shaken up.
What’s notable about this event is the connection the anonymous guy had with the manager. Over time, they had developed what was for him a special relationship because the manager had shown kindness to him by engaging him as a human being, one of the things you lose suffering from chronic homelessness. Occasionally she purchased him meals out of her own pocket, which happens often when people just care (go back and read some of my earlier RAOK features). To my knowledge, there were no complaints about him panhandling there or even bothering customers at all. He would just sit there alone quietly.
Now this is when the powers of the universe and serendipity come into play. My longtime supporters know for almost six years I’ve worked as a homeless navigator on the Street Outreach Team for Prince George’s County Department of Social Services with the chronically homeless community which includes veterans, and those with addictions and mental health challenges. That restaurant is right in the middle of the area I’ve worked for years and I’ve prided myself on knowing everyone on those streets. So, the franchisee, who is a community oriented business person, reached out to tell me about what had happened and asked if I could find “their hero” because she wanted to personally thank and reward him. It’s been a blessing and a curse to have a reputation of being able to find people, as I’ve been asked many times to do, but actually finding a chronically homeless person can be like finding a needle in a haystack. Not wanting to disappoint her, I just said “I’ll try.”
So I asked her for a description and as soon as I got to the height and build, I knew who it was. It was my guy and I knew exactly where to find him. Although my client had given me permission to use his name and photos, I’m just going to call him Alex. He’s from Miami and said he had a house and family there but wouldn’t talk about it and I didn’t press. He had been “living” in a tent in Camp Springs, Maryland outside of the Social Security offices for almost two winters and we had developed a very close case worker-client relationship. It meant respecting his choice of refusing most or all the help available to him. He was a survivalist and you can tell his military experience helped him combat the elements he faced living outside. He wore several sets of clothing covered by a thermal jumpsuit. His camp outside of the Social Security office in Camp Springs caused a tremendous amount of email traffic from various federal agencies concerned about him living in those conditions once it was discovered that he was a veteran. From time to time, some federal bigwig would be at a meeting at that location and would call someone about him, who’d call someone, who’d call someone else, who’d then call me. And I’d have to assemble and deploy a team of officers, Veterans Affairs (VA) outreach workers, and others to once again hear him respectfully decline all offers of housing, preferring to stay in his tent.
Looking back, most people seemed to be more concerned about the optics and culture we worked in than his actual welfare, and would fail to connect with him as a human, unlike the restaurant manager he risked his life for. But you know how local government jobs go. It rolls downhill and a few weeks go by and I’d be called back out.
Turns out Alex was an Air Force vet with an honorable discharge eligible for full benefits, none of which he wanted. I tried for months to partner with a VA outreach worker who found him veterans housing, which he promptly turned down, asking that she leave. He was mad at me for bringing her along, saying he couldn’t leave that location until he got permission from a certain general at the Pentagon, and of course, I never asked his name out of respect for Alex’s wish to stay.
Alex’s bravery and selflessness on that day exemplify the best of humanity, and perhaps demonstrate the value of his military experience and training. The franchise owners were immensely grateful for his presence and quick thinking, and commended him for his extraordinary act of courage worthy of some kind of medal.
On that frightful day, Alex acted as you’d expect any person with tactical training to do. He proved that people experiencing homelessness are capable of anything anyone else can do, including being a hero if the situation calls for it. At that moment, no one cared what he looked like, how he smelled, what happened in his life, or about his housing status, which a lot of times determines how the homeless are treated. No, they were just glad he was there.
Oh, and about that reward. When he was told he could have anything he wanted, in true Alex form, he turned that down too. As I turned to walk out of the restaurant where we were meeting, he stopped me and said, “You know Wendell, I could use a new pair of boots.”
And then it happened. The week before in a “Random Act Of Kindness,” the wife of a Maryland National Guardsmen who had helped me vaccinate the homeless had just given me all his military gear because he was called to active duty in Texas and would be outfitted there. Included in the bag was a new pair of tactical boots exactly in Alex’s size.
Writer’s note: A few months later, I went back out to follow up with Alex. He had vanished without a trace and his campsite was vandalized.
