Russell died earlier this year. He was sixty-three, but looked ten years
older. That’s what living in the woods will do to you. He was a big man
physically and as I was to find out, he was a big man if you measured the
kindness he showed to so many.
I wondered how Russell withstood below-freezing temperatures especially that
time around Christmas several years ago when someone stole his propane heater
while he was asleep in his tent. I didn’t see how he could stand the blistering
Virginia heat that’s been getting worse every year.
When he got kicked out of transitional housing because of a developing
illness and was forced back into the woods, I didn’t think he’d survive.
I and others brought him food as he stayed in his tent. On the occasion that he
had a doctor’s appointment at the free clinic, he’d have to walk down a steep
ravine. His gait had become very unsteady. I can remember helping him navigate
the path and supporting him as sweat poured down both of us. I felt like I was
carrying Jesus and fought with my all to keep him steady. After I’d take
Russell back up to his tent, I’d return to my car and cry.
Before I met Russell six years ago, I had little idea what it was like to
live in the woods: extreme temperatures, rain, snow, with only torn
canvass and tarps protecting you; little food, old clothes, substance abuse,
physical danger lurking, assistance programs that look better on paper than
they actually are. Something had happened to each person living in the woods
that had landed them there. Some made it out, but many more did not.
Our church was able to move Russell and another homeless man in the woods
into studio apartments. Russell’s degenerative brain condition caused him to
have a short stay there before we were able to get him into a nursing home. It
was the Lord at work getting him in. Waiting times in a system characterized by
Kafkaesque rules, could be as long as two years. Many of the good people
administering the system curse these same rules and the lack of resources that
prevent those seeking help from being able to take those first, meaningful
steps towards self-improvement.
I tried to help Russell and several others navigate their way through a
system that promises more than it can deliver. Frustration, anger,
hopelessness, roadblocks erected in what can only be seen as the result of
specious logic too often are the results of seeking help. As I tried to have my
friend’s body cared for in a dignified manner, it was initially dead end after
As we approach Christmas and the holiday season, thoughts turn to giving and
helping the less fortunate. A lot of food, small gifts, and knit hats are
distributed people who are homeless. I know they’re appreciative, but often
times that help is ephemeral like the melting snow. There are people with no
homes, no jobs, no money and as I’ve seen, these conditions started as one or
two events – loss of job, overwhelming medical costs – and from there the
downward, often irreversible spiral began.
Maybe you won’t have a Russell; someone you just know you have to go all out
to help. I never thought I would. Maybe you’ll help as you can and join other
people at your place of worship, or business to reach out to those so
desperately in need. Maybe you’ll find out something about yourself that makes
you want to help in ways you never thought possible. Don’t let the spirit of
Christmas and the holiday season end abruptly as we ring in the new year. The
spirit of giving of one’s self to help another; isn’t that the spirit we
want to pervade the entire year?
Rich Garon is an author and the former Chief-of-Staff for the Committee on
International Relations, U.S. House of Representatives. Garon now spends much
of his time working with the homeless, and all proceeds from his latest novel, Lee Fitts, will be donated
to the Bill Mehr Drop-In Center for the homeless in his local community outside
of Washington, D.C. For more information visit www.richgaron.com.