The Search Is On

From Jake’s perspective I figured me pushing him to get help combined with me not showing up was my way of telling him I was sick of him. This is where the story would probably end, except it didn’t. I was determined to find him one more time and explain what happened.  So I decided to visit all the homeless shelters, St.Johns, My Brothers Place and Sunday Breakfast Mission to find him. After all, he had told me and the staff at Project Home that he would stay for 30 days at one before moving on to another.  Here’s where I found that Jake wasn’t exactly honest with me. He had only stayed at Sunday Breakfast one day all year and the other two had no record of him being there. All this time he had been living rough and didn’t want to tell me.

I would visit the Midtown Diner 5/29 and learn that it was about to close shortly. When I walked in solo a waitress yelled, “did ya lose him?”. Yep, actually I did! Sat in our usual booth in the rear and looked across at an empty seat. Regina had worked there 18 years and was upset at losing her job. She told me they would be open for only one more week. I had one more Sunday left to find Jake if he was to enjoy his beloved meatloaf. My final push to find him involved creating laminated headshots to show street folks and anyone that would give me the time of day. I called the police and local hospitals asking for him. Revisited all the shelters just in case. Sunday Breakfast Mission is down a small alleyway with people sitting and laying either side.

I had the entrance in my sights when the tallest of the group yelled out, “you need help?”. Yes. Pulling out a picture and asking him if he knew this guy was greeted with suspicious looks from him and his friends. “Who wants to know?” His friend. I then fumbled with my phone until I showed him an album with hundreds of pictures of the pair of us. Only then did he relax. He said his name was “69”, (he was 6ft 9in tall) which didn’t faze me as most people on the street have interesting monikers. When he found out I was Irish he told me his last name was Collins and he was related to the revolutionary Michael Collins. Who knew the “big fellow” of Irish history had a 6 ft 9 inch African American descendant in Philly. 69 said he knew Jake. So did most of the homeless people I approached. But no one offered much in the way of help finding him. Everyone wanted to chat. One person sang me a song, then pointed at my t-shirt. I was wearing a Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, he was singing one of their songs and I was slow on the uptake.

Sunday Love Project

On the one-year anniversary (6/5) of meeting Jake I sat at the same round metal table where we had first met and pondered throwing in the towel. What if he doesn’t want to be found? Since I had already made the drive down I decided to walk the 7 blocks north to meet with Regina at Midtown one last time. She sat with me in-between clients holding back tears. Today was her last day. I knew I probably would never see her again and we mugged for one last selfie. She asked me if I was going to keep looking for him and I said I wasn’t sure. We said our last goodbyes and I wished her the best. Slowly walking back to my car I spotted a line of homeless people waiting to be fed at Love Park (yes it’s where the original love sculpture is). With nothing to lose I approached a gentleman in charge who was organizing the crowd into an orderly line. I showed him a picture of Jake. “Sure I know him and I know where he sleeps.” Finally, after one month a solid lead. Melvin was a volunteer for the Sunday Love Project that gave out food every Sunday to the homeless. This organization was the brainchild of Margaux Murphy, an incredibly dedicated and selfless person who saw a problem and decided to do something about it.

Melvin and Me

Melvin, a Vietnam veteran, with a colorful resume and tons of stories to share would become my “Columbo” (his words) in my quest to find “himself.” I returned the following week to see Melvin and scour the line for a familiar face. After Mel was finished we walked up to 1800 Parkway where Mel told me some of the homeless congregate, washing their clothes in the gigantic fountain. No Jake. The following week Margaux was kind enough to let me help out at the food bank.

It was fun meeting and interacting with all the colorful characters.  Mel showed me the place where he thought Jake was sleeping. We would walk the city for hours all the while listening to Mels stories from Vietnam and his past. Mel was the perfect wingman. No one was suspicious of me when I pulled out Jake’s picture with Mel by my side.

Throughout July the lines waiting for food would increase at Love Park.  Mel would introduce me to some of his friends and I would bring him to meet the finest hotelier in the entire city, the wonderful Katie McLaughlin and her welcoming staff at LeMeriden Hotel.  I have to admit I enjoyed helping out on the line and loved exploring the city with Mel. The drive there and back went quick. I was able to plan my week, listen to some audio books and learn a language. By the end of the summer some Mandarin actually began to stick. The summer flew by with no new leads or sightings of Jake. I was not discouraged; Mel would never allow that. The guy was always up and great to be around. I was determined to keep up the search and had no desire to call it quits.

September 11,2016

Because of the construction at Love Park we had to relocate across the street. As I waited for the rest of the team of volunteers to arrive I noticed a Ronald Reagan quote on the scaffolding around the park. “We can’t help everyone, but everyone can help someone”. I took hundreds of pictures over the year and a half travelling to Philly but none more prolific than this one. Minutes later, Margaux pulled her car up to the curb to unload the large bags full with dinners she had painstakingly prepared. No Mel today. Another long term volunteer Virginia helped as the line started to build. It was a slow week for some reason with not that many hungry people around. After we were done, we mugged for a selfie in front of an ATM, 2:44 pm to be exact. They asked if I was still going to look for Jake without Mel. I told them I was going to walk down to where we first met next to the Liberty Bell.

I would be back in front of that ATM at 3:06 pm taking another selfie.