Joe

Joe was under an awning on the east side of State Street, north of Adams. I introduced myself and he said, "I'm great--I'm Joe--I'm great...and if you believe that I've got some swampland to sell you. He's been out here since he returned from his service with the Marines. "I know how to survive out here", he said with a smile. He told me about his time in the Marines and how he'd shoot depleted uranium rounds from his weapon. Given the tiny amount of radioactivity in the ammunition, Joe was a bit concerned, "that's why I don't want to go to the doctor--there might be something wrong", he said. He asked if he could talk more and he told me about his wives. "My first wife was a great mother, but a horrible wife". They divorced, "We married too young...in high school". Then, he remarried and it was obvious, she was the love of his life. He went on and on about how amazing she was and then with tears in his eyes said she passed away. "I'm still angry at God", he said "I believe in God and know I'm going to heaven, but I ask myself 'why--why did he have to take her?'" That was the center of our discussion for about 15 minutes--how to reconcile the pain and suffering in this world with the goodness of God. "None of us have tomorrow", he said. "I've drank enough to kill me...but I'm still here." Like a Marine, he's still fighting and living and trying to make sense of this world. When asked what his biggest need was, he said "I need an option" (an opportunity for something better). He needed money too, but his main concern was being in a better place emotionally, physically, and mentally.

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