LIFE WITH WILLY THE VAGRANT

Editor’s Note:
This is a fictional story based on a few facts

.......and the editor’s imagination.

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“There is no God, no universe, no human race,
No earthly life, no heaven, no hell.
It is all a dream, nothing exists but you.
And you are a thought, a vagrant thought.
A useless thought, a homeless thought,
A wandering forlorn among the empty eternities”

The above quotation recorded by Samuel Langhorne Clemens, the famous American author and humorist better known by his pen name, Mark Twain, encapsulates the true attitude of the general public toward the vagrant and reminds me so much of my friend, “Willy” and the life he lived.

Willy first came to my notice about three months ago while I sat with my friends having a cup of coffee at our regular breakfast meeting held in a local coffee shop. He is a tall, thin athletic looking man in his mid-thirties with long, scruffy blond hair tied in a pony tail and clearly in need of a thorough shampoo and wash. His clothes were well fitting but obviously in need of replacement or at least washing. He was pushing a large Publix shopping cart piled high with plastic garbage bags crammed with stuff and there was a small red bag sitting on top the whole pile.
He pushed the cart slowly, and carefully parked it next to a column on the side of the shop, making sure that it does not obstruct the flow of customers. Picking up his red bag and tucking it under his left arm, he entered the shop and walked directly to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee. He then collected the order and briskly walked out, found an empty table near his cart and sat down. He then lit a cigarette and opening his red bag he proceeded to forage deliberately through its contents while apparently carrying on a conversation. He continued to do this for at least an hour and then got up, placed his red bag on top his pile of junk and walked away.

I don’t know his real name nor do I have any accurate information about him and his life. Since he appeared in this area in the last few months he does not appear to have made any in-depth relations with anyone, but a number of people have been able to establish some kind of contact. One of these is Jim who works at the coffee shop and who sees that his order is quickly facilitated. Another is Mike, a local business man who has made it his life’s work to give care and aid to the many homeless and destitute people living in the city. From them, and from others and from my own observations, I am able to paint a picture of Willy as I see him in my mind’s eye. I have no doubt the details may be quite inaccurate but I am absolutely convinced that the conclusion and the message is very, very appropriate.

Willy was born to a close-knit family in Kansas. His father is a retired Engineer and his mother is a teacher. He was a very active student who excelled in sports, especially long distance running, and was a straight-A student who was a biology whiz. He obtained a full scholarship to attend college where he studied Biology, obtaining his bachelor’s degree, cum laude. Upon completion he elected to follow his mother’s vocation and take up teaching. Subsequently he applied and was accepted to teach Biology and Genetics in a high school in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. He quickly became a sensation, not only with regard to his competence but in the way he was able to motivate his students to achieve more. He very quickly took over all the AP Biology classes and they became much sought after. He also became involved in athletic activities especially in respect of marathon and cross-country running and very soon developed quite a successful program.
Willy was a happy man doing what he enjoyed, and gained the respect of his peers and his students for his efforts. He was even beginning to entertain the possibility of going further in education, applying for post graduate studies and even proceeding into an academic career.
Everything changed dramatically on March 19, 2003, when President George W. Bush gave the order to invade Iraq. Willy, having spent all of his high school and university years as an active member of the ROTC felt it was his duty to obey the order of his commander-in-chief and promptly enlisted. Very shortly after, he found himself undergoing training in an Army Base in Tampa. By June he was on his way to Iraq as an Infantry man, by way of a forward base in Kuwait. His unit received orders to move out in early July, 2003 and on July 17, 2003, on his mother’s birthday, he boarded an Humvee and proceeded in a convoy northward to Baghdad.
They had traveled several days in Iraq without encountering any kind of resistance. They were relaxed and generally felt that it was all over, that the “shock and awe” plan had really worked and that their tour will be a “piece of cake”. Then it happened, their humvee drove over an IED and blew up! The driver and four of the soldiers died on the spot and every one of the others were seriously injured. Willy suffered a severe concussion and remained in coma for 72 hours before slowly regaining consciousness. He was repatriated to USA and remained in the Miami VA hospital for nearly two months and was subsequently discharged in November, 2003. He was fully recovered from his physical injuries but unfortunately continued to suffer from severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
His problems were just beginning. He had lost all his people-skills and could not tolerate any kind of stress without developing acute anxiety symptoms. He could not resume his teaching career and in fact was incapable of holding even the simplest service jobs. He gradually drifted down the social scale and all his friends and associates drifted away. He even tried selling newspapers at street corners but could not survive. The last few years have found him a confirmed vagrant living as best as he can. He moves from city to city, lives in alley ways or in empty electrical rooms and forages at the back of restaurants for leftovers. Sometimes kind people like Mike will try to extend a helpful hand but most of the time people generally avoid them and some of them will go out of their way to remove them. I presume that is the reason why they stay a short while before moving on.
And as for my friend Willy, I can only speculate that his daily coffee visit is the last vestige of the better life that he once enjoyed and that in due course he will be moving on. Unfortunately, he is now merely a statistic like the more than 30,000 young men and women who suffer from PTSD as a result of a bad decision by an irresponsible president.
Today, as we sat sipping our coffee and discussing the economy and its impact upon us, Willy walked in at the usual time. We paused for a while, looked at him and then at each other, quietly lamenting the wasting of good young man with great potential. Speaking for all of us, Joe, with a deep sigh of resignation said:

“Isn’t ironic that George Bush and Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld and
Paul Wolfowitz continue with their lives, living happily and doing very well if
you please, while this young man is consigned to the rubbish heap of society"