Saturday, February 03, 2007

One Day

Thursday, February 1, 2007

6:45 A.M. :: The T-Mobile jingle (duh-da-duh-da-dum…duh-da-duh-da-dum…) wakes me up as it does every day from my cell phone/alarm clock. This is a great way to advertise.

6:55 A.M. :: I actually wake up for good, as I somehow do every day. I look out the window to see how much snow we got. There was a light dusting on my windshield.

7:46 A.M. :: How do I manage to get into my car every day at the same exact time? I drive to the Campus. I accidentally drive about 35 miles per hour through a school zone by Carter Lawrence School on 12th Avenue. I slow down to the required 15 about 30 feet from the sign that marks the end of the zone, knowing that people actually obey school zone speeds here, unlike in Indiana where they are merely a 25 MPH formality. I am paranoid about seeing police lights in my rear view mirror the whole way to work.

7:57 A.M. :: I get to the Campus. I find a parking spot that isn’t in the middle of the lot, which is where you park if you get there later in the morning.

8:00 A.M. :: The police arrive and I start to run for cover since I’m sure they’re looking for me to give me my speeding ticket. My fears are relieved when they explain that they’re responding to a complaint about prank calls being made from the day room telephone during the early morning hours.

8:02 A.M. :: I unlock the door to the Campus and give the three women who are always first in line a hard time.

8:03 A.M. :: I remember why we dread the first of the month. The good part of it is that the Campus has funds again to help people get their Tennessee State ID cards, birth certificates, prescriptions, Traveler’s Aid vouchers and Salvation Army clothing vouchers. The bad part is that it all requires a lot of paperwork. And all the requests come in at once.

9:00 A.M. :: I first hear that one of our participants, and one who I have gotten to know pretty well, who is in a coma following a lethal combination of pre-existing health conditions, and ingesting a deadly mix of painkiller and alcohol. Some of the other guys bring me his and his girlfriend’s bags that they took from Room In The Inn, where he was found unconscious and bleeding heavily this morning, to put in my office.

9:45 A.M. :: It’s time for the store. Within about two minutes of opening the store, where we allow people to exchange points that they earn by going to classes for useful items such as hats, gloves, underwear, du-rags, hair brushes, radios, notebooks and the like, I was ready to close it. People were complaining that we were cheating them out of points, and that we didn’t have good enough things and that we didn’t have the things they wanted. Just as I was about to give some people a little talking to about appreciating this free stuff we were letting them have, a man thanked me for what we were doing and I remembered to not take the groaning of the masses so seriously.

10:20 A.M. :: I close the store on time, which is something I am a stickler about. There is actually nobody I have to turn away. Usually, if I don’t turn people away, I’d be there for the rest of the day.

10:30 A.M. :: I am in the copy room trying to print something onto Campus letterhead to help a lady in her search for housing. I hear Anneice paging me, so I call her. “The sheriff is here to see you.” I figure that he is there to take me away for speeding through the school zone, but I go downstairs anyway. He just wants to put a warrant or something in the mail room like usual.

11:00 A.M. :: We are trying to find some family contact information for the man who is dying at the hospital. His girlfriend (who would probably be his wife in any other setting) is on the phone with us asking if we know anyone in his family to contact because she doesn’t.

11:30 A.M. :: It is time for lunch at the Campus, which we serve each Thursday. As I’m locking the door as we close before lunch time, the woman who is the partner (for lack of a better term) of the dying man comes in the door crying. I ask her what is going on, and she tells me that she is there to get his ID card for the hospital. His heart has stopped beating twice and he has been revived both times. I take her back to my office to get his wallet. She cries, and my eyes well up. She says, “Jeff, what will I do if he dies? I’ll be all alone.” I manage to say something about how we at the Campus are her family. She says, “My daddy just died, now he’s gonna die…what is God punishing me for…why does God hate me like this?” I don’t know what to say.

11:40 A.M. :: Lunch is well underway. I don’t really help much and I kind of wander around a little. Sandwiches are being served, so it is a pretty easy meal to handle.

11:45 A.M. :: I am pouring out the big can of beer that was handed to me from the man’s belongings that are in my office into the sink in Fred and Anneice’s office. I walk into the hallway and join the woman, Anneice and the volunteer who leads Bible study in a prayer.

12:15 P.M. :: I eat with Anneice, Marcus (our new Vanderbilt football player intern), and Stacy, a volunteer from Trevecca. We laugh about some of our most eccentric participants (the one who takes all of his clothes off when he gets high, the one that keeps making baby noises, etc.).

1:15 P.M. :: Thank God the checks are finally here. The first of the month is when everybody gets their government checks. That means that many people have been hanging around for the last three weeks waiting on that next check to come so they can spend it in the first week of the month on things like food, bills, and adding a hefty portion to their savings accounts in hopes of saving for a down payment on housing. And by food, bills and savings, I mean cheap motel rooms, crack, and booze. That is the sad life of a person who is addicted.

2:45 P.M :: I’m staffing the day room by myself since most of the others got off work at 2:30. There’s just a small crowd there getting their daily dose of Miami Vice (we had been in a routine of watching Bonanza and Gunsmoke, but TV Land changed the times, before that, they always wanted to watch Charmed (aka “the show with those witches”)). Many people have gone to get what must be so tempting, a motel room.

3:15 P.M. :: One of the participants is helping me run the phone list so I don’t have to worry about resetting the timer ever 7 minutes while I’m making endless runs to get cough drops and cold pills for people.

3:55 P.M. :: I turn off the TV in the day room and begin my “okay, everybody start heading toward the door” routine.

3:57 P.M. :: I start to worry that one of the guys is dead when I try to wake him up for about 45 seconds by shouting at him and shaking him. He finally wakes up.

4:02 P.M. :: The last people finally file out, leaving the staff with a huge pile of bags to carry outside.

4:10 P.M. :: We finally begin our daily staff wrap-up meeting, where we discuss participants, suspensions that we have given (i.e. the difference between a day for basic cussing and a month for verbal abuse), property matters, and which staff members will be out the next day. Most of the meeting is spent discussing the man in a coma and the needs of his girlfriend and the church that found him covered in blood.

4:15 P.M. :: One of our guys is dead. Though we don’t know it yet, the man in the hospital has been removed from life support. I would find that out the next morning when I walk in and see that we are beginning a moment of silence and an impromptu 5-minute memorial service for him.

4:25 P.M. :: It’s time to go home. It’s always a chore to make sure I don’t hit anybody with my car as I’m pulling out of the lot. I watch my speed all the way back through Music Row and down Belmont Boulevard in case the police have been hunting for me all day.

7:30 P.M. :: My roommates are finally all home. It’s community night, so we all eat together. It was so nice of the people from church to bring us white chili, salad, chips, and fruit the night before. There was enough to stretch into two nights.

8:30 P.M. :: This is one of our less well planed out community nights, and we’re all kind of looking at each other to see what we should do. We are all a little too tired from the day to talk about Marjorie Thompson’s Soul Feast like we started last week, so we really don’t do anything else, which is alright by me for this night.

9:00 P.M. :: I catch up on some e-mails, and start writing this blog entry.

10:45 P.M. :: It’s time for bed.

11:15 P.M. :: I put down my Time magazine and turn out the light. Another day of living is over.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing your day, Jeff. It really doesn't matter what your job is, each day presents its challenges and its rewards.

Anonymous said...

Jeff - Thanks so much for sharing your day! It made me stop and think about the things/people we all encounter in a 24 hour period. We always enjoy your blogs! Take care :)

Anonymous said...

i love you a lot jeff.

Anonymous said...

Jeff,
I have been reading your entries for the past 45 minutes and it's such a nice way to start my day.
Your life in Nashville is so interesting. Thanks for sharing it with all of us.
Jean Shutt

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