So, years ago when I worked as a detention officer I came across a 10-12 year old little boy, brought to my door by the police for violently assaulting his grandmother. He was scared, cold, and about 80 lbs soaking wet. I greeted him, gave him the standard pat down and personal possession confiscation and hand cuffed him to a cold metal bench. As he sat, whimpering and unsure I spoke to him, as I had to many many such youths firmly, calmly, and compassionately. As we went through the intake process, he was very compliant and polite and I could see a quirky sense of humor shining through the clouds. Do you have any aliases?, I asked him when we got to that part of the intake. What do you mean?, he asked. Its like a nickname, different than your real name that your friends or others call you., I replied. After a considered few seconds of reflection he said, Crotchy. People call me Crotchy... Or the CROTCHMAN! With nary a chuckle, I entered the information dutifully and continued on with the intake. Crotchy was a smart kid with a goofy sense of humor and tragic explosive anger disorder which meant he would at any time for little or no reason and with no provocation, launch into explosions of violent rage. Over the years I worked detention he was a frequent flier and was sent to inpatient psych facilities both far and wide in an effort to help him. Sadly, almost no psych facilities are equipped to handle violent patients and he was about as violent as they came. Hed come back in and Id be there to meet him at the door, poking fun at him for having missed the infamously terrible food in our facility, and him quipping back to me that our food was way better than the poh-der-ed eggs that the other facilities had. Today, while driving the Red Route, I pulled into Union Station behind schedule with a full load of passengers, eager to ride. One scraggly young man in his mid-twenties with a rough and shaggy beard and a wild mane of hair, toting a knapsack stuffed full and sleeping bags was the last one on. Just at the last second. You made it!, I cheered him as he slipped through the doors and he gave me an odd look as we zipped out of the station and on our appointed rounds. Where am I dropping you?, I politely inquired. Wal-Mart., he quickly replied. Well, youre in LUCK! I said with a wink, I just so happen to GO to Wal-Mart! Thats serendipity for ya, right there! He again, gave me an odd look as he headed for a seat in the back of the bus. When we got to Wal-Mart he passed the rear exit to come to the front door. As he approached I gave my customary, Have a good afternoon! and he stopped and looked at me. Did you used to work for the County?, he asked. I sure did!, I replied. Suddenly, he beamed from ear to ear with that characteristically Crotchy grin, stuck his hand out and said, I dont know if you remember me but Im [blank] OF COURSE I remember you! I said, shaking his hand vigorously. I STILL tell stories about you! He giggled and said, I can only imagine. How are you doing? I asked. Im alive, he flatly said... I havent done any felonys yet but Im okay. With this, we said farewell and I departed. An hour later, I returned and he again got on the bus and went to the back. When we got to Union Station again, I was once again full to the brim, almost running behind schedule, and awaiting a busload ready to depart. He came to the front of the bus, stopped, and with a wretched look on his face he said, I just wanted to apologize for the type of person I was back then. With the clock intoning time to go, I parked the bus, unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped off with him. Listen to me I said, You were one of my favorite people I ever dealt with during that time and you have nothing to apologize for, then or now. Really?!?, he said completely mystified. You were a good kid with a good heart and a great mind... I said, ... and as far as I can tell youre STILL a good person with a good heart and that same great mind. You just have problems. All of us do. Yours are just a little harder to tackle than most. With this, he cracked a grin that simply beamed and shone like the Sun. Thanks he said, I hope I see you around. Id like that. I replied as he shook my hand so warmly it was almost a bear hug. I bear no false hope or fanciful pretensions about our criminal justice system, our mental health system, or our societys ability to help those in need. To most people, hes a bum and an unwanted element infesting our streets. But to me, that unwashed, lean, bedraggled young man will always be an unkept promise to the future and an unfulfilled dream buried close to my heart. I dont have much hope for Crotchy or the denziens like him out there but I do have hope. A hope that is nourished just a little bit more by the knowledge that a smile, a kind word, and a compassionate heat can make a difference for a person for an afternoon or for years to come. Our words and deed plant seeds whose yield we may never truly understand. Sow them carefully.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 00:46:45 +0000
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