It's a long, long journey to the Capitol City

Anyone who has spent more than a few nights at the Black Cat
knows Black Cat Bill.

I guess I should re-state that.  Up until about a year or so ago,
anyone who had spent more than a few nights at the Black Cat
knows Black Cat Bill.

Whether you know his name or not, Bill has been a fixture on
14th Street for……Jesus, I've been hanging out there for 10 years
or more, and I'm almost certain he was there the first time I
stepped foot in the old Black Cat back in '98 or so.

Warm, good natured and always friendly, Bill is a homeless man
who has been best known for greeting Black Cat patrons with the
infamously charming baritone cheer of "Black Cat Black Cat!!! A
little spare chaaaaaaange for the homeless."

Half carnival barker and half goodwill ambassador to 14th Street
hipsters, Bill has always been friendly, and he's always been a
charmer.  And he's always been grateful for whatever people could
spare. In the heat of the summer or the dead of winter, Bill has
always been a gentleman, even when the elements have been
less friendly.

Over the years, I've had countless encounters with Bill, and they've
always – ALWAYS - been pleasant.

One night I stopped to ask him how he'd been, and he gave me his
standard answer:

"I'm doing ok for an old guy...."  Then he added a twist that was new
to me.  "But as long as I keep watching you young folks, I get a little
energy."

And he smiled.

Another night I slipped him a buck and asked him how his night was.

"It would be a lot better if everyone was as generous as you are," he
shot, with a raised eyebrow and a little grin.

There was the night in late August of 2005, when I passed his regular
spot on the sidewalk.

"You doing ok these days?" I asked.

"Well, I'm doing ok," he responded. "I know I'm doing a lot better
than all those people in New Orleans."

I fumbled for something to say, but I just couldn't top that.

Then there was another evening that's always stuck with me - the
night that he offered a kind word to a tearful, inebriated young
woman who had stomped out of the club in a huff.  For his efforts,
the girl spat back at him that she didn't need his advice, and that
"…at least I'M not homeless! I have a JOB!"

There was silence on the sidewalk for half a beat, while I made
sure I heard her correctly.

"I know you're not homeless," he said in an even tone.  "And I'm
HAPPY for you that you aren't."

I was speechless.

I've never really been able to understand how someone so hard on
his luck could remain so friendly, and so optimistic, and so dignified.
When that girl dared to insult him in such a hateful, ugly manner,
there was a split second when the ONLY thing I wanted to do was to
chase that drunken little shit into the street and give her the shaking
of a lifetime.  But after watching Bill take the high road, I felt like it
would be a diminishment not to do the same (so I went inside the club
to tell the staff.  Maybe it did some good, maybe not).

I was so impressed with him nonetheless.  I wanted so badly to
defend him, but I guess at his age, Bill didn't need protection from
spoiled little drunk girls.

Sometimes Bill disappears for weeks and even months.  And every
time he does, I get a little worried.  Anything can happen to an aging
homeless guy – even one that everyone seems to like.

Last weekend I passed Bill for the first time in several months….perhaps
its been a year, but who knows?  I travel for work a lot and I don't go
out as much as I used to…

Bill looks bad.  He's lost at least 60 pounds…..maybe more like 80 or 90.
He looked tired, and for the very first time in the 10 years I've seen him
around, he sounded sorry for himself.

Heart disease, high blood pressure and gangrene in his feet were among
the litany of ailments he ran past me.  He just seemed depressed and sad,
and I guess I wasn't really prepared for that.

I gave him a few bucks and some words of encouragement, offering him my
hand.  He gave me a shake, looked me in the eye, and then then draped his
other hand over mine. It was an intimate gesture, and one I wasn't really
expecting.  The moment seemed to last a very long time.

I don't think Bill is ok.

If you see him, try to spare a moment to say hello.  And if you pray, how
about sparing one of those for him as well?

And maybe...just maybe, this time you could part with a little spare change
to the homeless.