.JPG)
LOST on the STREETS
The day was Thursday, August 29th and it started like many of my retirement days do.
I took my morning walk with my only daily change being the direction I take as I leave my driveway.
Either way, it takes me through our neighborhood on the east side of Davenport and regardless what
direction I choose I always end up walking 26-27 minutes. Often I will repeat the same walk after
dinner. Some streets have a bit of incline, but after growing up in Pennsylvania it's difficult to call
any place in Iowa a "hill"
I never imagined that this particular walk would have a lasting effect on my thoughts and make me
question my own existence,
That statement may sound overly-dramatic, but it happened and it came out of nowhere. I was
only five or six seven minutes from home with only half a block and two left turns away from
our house as I was finishing the morning's walk.
There's not a lot of variety in my morning walking regimen or the morning routine of any of the 10-
12 people I see each day at 6:30 a,m. unless somebody starts earlier or later than usual. There's always
two or three folks walking or running with their dogs, two ladies walking together, a young couple
walking and talking, each of them drinking a cup of coffee and a several runners/ joggers who are
headed over to the Duck Creek running and bicycle path.
I was walking on the left side of the street and less than a hundred yards ahead of me I saw a person
coming toward me. As she approached, I noticed she was carrying a large plastic bag about the size of
one of those huge book bags that some kids carry to school. The bag was in her right hand and it
looked half full, of what, I couldn't tell.
From fifty yards away I could tell that this person, who looked like a frail fifth grader was a mid-30's
woman. She wore a tank top with shorts and it appeared that her bare shoulders, legs and face were
sunburned. That became even more evident when she came closer. Her exposed skin was fire engine
red.
For some reason, my mind created a scenario to explain what this woman was doing on this street
and my first thought was that she was walking to someone's home to babysit. There are no restaurants,
coffee shops or any businesses less than a mile and a half from the spot where we stood.
She wore glasses. Her uncombed blond hair was relatively short and the slightly taller than five
feet woman weighed less than 100 pounds.
She pleasantly asked me if I knew where River Drive was. River Drive is one of the major streets
that runs parallel to the railroad tracks and the Mississippi River.
Not only was she four miles from River Drive, she was heading in a direction that only took her
farther away from her destination.
She spoke clearly, but said, "I'm a little disoriented. I feel okay, but I'm a little mixed up."
Davenport, Iowa has almost 100,000 residents and is one of the Quad Cities (two in Iowa and two
in Illinois). The four cities, (Davenport, Bettendorf, Moline and Rock, Island) combined total nearly
a quarter of a million people.
Despite being completely lost and miles from her destination, the lady was not crying or upset. She
only wanted to know how to get to River Drive. She showed me the identification wrist band on her
right wrist that she had been given at one of our hospitals, probably three or four miles from where we
stood. Evidently, someone had taken her to the hospital the night before. I assumed that heat
prostration was the condition. Sunday had been a sunny, no clouds in the sky,, and mid-90's most of the
day.
She mentioned she had stayed in one of the area's parks all day, with little, if any protection from the
sun and it was apparent she had probably lost body fluids and was very weak. The woman only
said that someone had taken her to the hospital and that they checked her vitals, gave her some fluids
and then discharged her.
I first saw her before 7:30 a.m. and she had already walked a minimum of three miles to get to the
spot where we met. That means she left the hospital at daylight (around 6:00 a.m.). I didn't ask her
what was in her bag. I think it may have served as her "suitcase" and possibly carried a change of
clothes.
I then proceeded to try to give her directions from our current location to River Drive. That was
an inconsiderate and increasingly shameful act that still bothers me today, I was talking to her as if she
was a businesswoman who was late for work and the GPS in her 2023 Ford Explorer was not working.
She politely listened to me explain about the rough sidewalks, traffic, and some sights to look for
to assure she was traveling the correct route. She never questioned my laundry list of directions or
complained about another walking journey ahead of her. Her departure from the hospital only
took her farther away from her destination,
I thought, 'Jim, you are an idiot. What kind of person are you?' I'm not naive or unaware our world
has con-artists, liars, cheaters, scammers and those characters always in search of creating some kind
of scheme to take advantage of someone on the internet, telephone or simply a knock on your door.
I allowed all those "what ifs" to take complete control of a decision-making process. 'Doing nothing
is better and much safer than being a good person.' - when did that begin to define my personality? You
can always be observant, alert and apply some sound decision-making skills that can help and not avoid
those clearly in need of some help and some kindness.
In this instance, my thoughts lasted two or three minutes when I thankfully realized giving long
distance walking directions was not an answer-it was an avoidance.
We walked up the last street that connects to mine and I asked her to wait five minutes for me on an
island that separates three streets. I ran home, bolted upstairs and told my wife what I was going to do.
She asked me what I needed and I told her I would grab what I could when I went dowwnstairs. I was
in a hurry because I thought this lady probably had been lied to many times in her life.
I grabbed a plastic bag and took the fruit off our table, some bottled water, emptied my wallet which
totaled about a dollar and a half and grabbed the keys to my car.
She was waiting for me when I stopped to pick her up and drive her to a church downtown that my
wife and I used to attend. I knew they used to serve breakfast each morning to those who needed a good
meal, many of them homeless. The church accepted donations of food, money, clothing-anything that
could help many of the people who showed up for breakfast and were without a home.
We drove for less than ten minutes. I intentionally did not ask many questions. She was somewhat
familiar with the city, but I never got the feeling she was from Davenport. She talked about sleeping in
the park(s) like she had spent the night at a Holiday Inn. She never complained. She probably told me,
"I appreciate you," and "I appreciate what you are doing" a half of dozen times on our drive. I only
wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible and not feel the need to answer a hundred questions.
The drive to the church parking lot was only ten minutes from my home and as soon as we pulled in
to a parking space that faced one of the entrances of the church the lady said, "I know her." There were
several people sitting on the sidewalk including a woman equipped with a large, open umbrella that
kept her in the shade and she was surrounded by a number of objects that I could only guess were her
possessions. The younger lady in my car said, "I think her name is Sara and I know her."
She exited my car and walked to Sara and they seemed happy to see each other. I was a bit concerned
that we might be too late for breakfast, but evidently it did not begin until 9:00 a.m. so we were a few
minutes early. I wanted to find a person in charge or a director of the breakfast program and after asking
my friend of 30 minutes if she would be alright until I came back, she told me she was fine. Sara
echoed her remarks and before I went around a corner of one of the buildings to find some church
personnel, I asked my friend if she was okay and also to please wait there until I came back.
"I appreciate you," she smiled and I said I'd be right back as I walked around the corner of the
building where she sat.
I approached a long table with seven or eight men sitting in the chairs and looking like they were
preparing for the morning's meal. When I asked, "Is there a person-in-charge nearby,?" almost all of the
guys pointed to another building and several wanted to walk me over there. They were very anxious to
help and I then thought maybe one of the reasons could have been that I looked like I could use a good
meal. I still had my morning walking clothes on; an old shirt and shorts, a baseball cap, some droopy
socks and probably still showing some signs of the morning's hustle and bustle.
I found the director, identified myself and briefly told her my reason for being there. The director
walked with me and there was my new friend sitting on the pavement eating one of the tangerines I had
tossed in the bag. We all talked for a moment and I was assured she would be okay. She said, "I
appreciate you," and for the first time I noticed her glasses. They fit her well, were in good condition
and looked somewhat similar to the glasses I was wearing. It made me wonder for a moment how she
might have acquired them, maybe through an organization, a friend-I don't know. There could have
been a hundred different reasons.
I drove away thinking about her and what had transpired in less than an hour. When I arrived home I
told my wife what had taken place and I said that I thought I would like to stop by the next day to see if
she was there or more likely, moved on to another location. She had mentioned without any details
about two cities, Muscatine-about 30 miles from Davenport and Burlington was slightly more than 80
miles.
It's been exactly three weeks now and I've never been back to the church. I'll never see the lady I met
or probably any of the other folks who were there for breakfast that day again. I've thought about that
day several times and sometimes wonder why I have a degree in counseling when all some people are
searching for is someone who will listen and I can do that.
The lady who talked to me on the sidewalk and rode with me to the church never asked me for
anything except directions. I didn't do anything special. I think I just did what I'm supposed to do. I'm
glad I'm still thinking about it and I hope in some way it will make me a better person.
