Status Updates From Stories from the Shadows: R...

p. 156: “Access to public buildings and amenities was curtailed by the new security measures and the requirement of a photo ID. That brief glimpse of a shared patriotism and a new social contract was soon shuttered by a brutal economy that shredded the state budget and widened the gap between rich and poor.”

p. 156: “Old Glory appeared on shopping carts, wheelchairs, and cardboard hovels under bridges. Patriotism trumped hopelessness, ancient grudges were buried, and our poorest citizens were fully embraced by a frightened, humbled, and deeply wounded America. But as Indian summer waned, life on the streets faded to normal.”

p. 156: “September 11, 2001 changed life on the streets for a brief but poignant time. The capricious terror of that day captivated and unsettled the lives of the most disenfranchised. The New York Times later reported that admissions to shelters for victims of domestic violence dropped precipitously after 9/11, with many shelters across the country closing for a short time.

p. 130-131: “Rough sleepers have been exiled to the fringes of our cities—prophets and visionaries gone astray who illuminate the failures of many sectors of our society, including housing, education, health, welfare, labor, and corrections…These cries from the urban desert rattle our foundations.”

p. 130: “He died peacefully and with minimal pain two months later. The time and intensity of these efforts were exhausting, and they created considerable tension for our beleaguered staff. Yet all were grateful for the opportunity. Perhaps most surprisingly, the fears of our other patients were allayed with the realization that they would not be abandoned at the time of death.”

p. 105: “Barbara drilled us on the basics incessantly and relentlessly. The core of the healing art is the personal relationship…Seek every opportunity to share food or coffee, be present in the lives of others, and listen to their stories. Offer care and relieve suffering, never judge. We are not in the business of changing people; our purpose is to gently offer hope and options.”

p. 105: “Barbara is the only true saint I’ve ever known: funny, loving, brilliant, frumpy, gentle, irascible, wise, humble, stubborn, and unpredictable…Barbara was dynamically present to the Cosmic Unfolding. She was always herself, whether talking with dignitaries such as Mother Teresa, comforting those under a bridge or down a dark alley, or regaling us with stories at Doyle‘s Pub.”

p. 96-97: “The limits of the ability of these two men to choose good options and to care adequately for themselves casts the issue of civil liberties into stark relief. I must confess that I would have been jubilant if the psychiatrist had declared both incompetent and unable to return to the streets, but I reluctantly accept that the law errs deliberately on the side of protecting civil liberties.”

p. 89: “The layered paradox of an urban service–delivery model that harkens back to the days of the country doctor is difficult to escape: care is best brought to homeless people and families by ‘home’ visits in the shelters and on the streets.”

p. 89: “Caring for homeless persons requires us to engage in many of the very human activities that originally enticed me to become a doctor: to listen to stories, to be available, to share in sorrows and joys, to ease suffering, to make an occasional difference.”

p. 49: “The staff was visibly shaken, and Joan ventured a nervous comment on how truth can sometimes be stranger than fiction. Jerry Niles, back in the shelter after a two-week drinking binge and soaking the remnants of his frostbitten feet in a bucket of warm water and Betadine, looked up with an insouciant smile:

“‘Piece of cake. Fiction, my friends, has to make sense.’”

p. 40: “I have always had an irrational fear of boredom and ennui, and these wonderfully erratic pilgrims have protected me from any hint of complacency or routine.”