Jack Otis Classmate, Jack Otis Homeless

Meet my fellow classmate and friend, Jack Otis. By the hair style you might be able to guess the photo is from the sixty's. 1969 was the graduating year to be exact. Look at that infectious smile and twinkle in his eyes. Now for younger folks, seeing this picture -- you might be shocked to see someone dressed for their senior picture. Being barefoot, in casual clothes, outside leaning on a tree or sitting with the family pet was never ever done! The men always wore coats and ties.  Your picture couldn't be put in the year book otherwise.

Jack and I graduated from Whetstone High School back in 1969 in Columbus, Ohio. Unlike most of my classmates I didn't know Jack for eons and eons. We didn't attend grade school and junior high together.  His family didn't live in the same neighborhood forever, like so many of us. In fact, very little is known about Jack's family. Jack lived with his Dad. None of us knew anything about his mother, except that she wasn't around. Those who knew his home life, remembered his Dad as not being a particularly stable person. Jack was new to our school, he came from someplace in Kentucky. Some classmates believe he moved around a lot.

During those high school years, classmates remember Jack as fun to be with, perhaps even a bit on the wilder side. He was full of life, a bit ornery. Not wild as in bad, but not a mild quiet, stay to oneself type of person. He liked to drink PBR (translation for the younger set, Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer). I should also add that drinking at age 18 was legal back in our day. We had what was called low beer, 3.2 and those 18-19 and 20 could drink that, but you had to be 21 to drink hard liquor and or high beer...high beer is the beer that's out now days. 3.2 no longer exists.

Jack like to drive around on old trails in his Bugged Eyed Sprite (sports car). He was chosen to be Nancy Edgars' escort for The Home Coming Court. That was a big deal, back in the day. Jack was popular folks. He was well liked, he was good looking guy...which you can clearly see from his picture.

 He died in the year 2000, alone and penny-less. He died homeless in the outskirts of Tucson, Arizona. He lived in a hobo camp outside the city limits and is buried in a small paupers grave in Pima County, Arizona. That area set aside in the cemetery for those without family, those who are indigent, those who have no means of another burial.  He was 49 years young.  I was heart broken when I pieced together his story, as were many of my classmates.  Searching for classmates for a class reunion is how this sad story came to light.  I was contacted by an old friend of his who shared that he had been working in North Central Wyoming in 1981 as a doodlebugger on seismic crews drilling for oil on ranches.  He went from there to Colorado and worked, but after that they lost touch.  I don't know or when he ended up in Arizona, or when he started riding the rails.

What happened to make this smiling good looking young man die alone and homeless? We know he chose to travel some after graduation, and for a short while, we know a fellow classmate gave him lodging in Tucson. That didn't last long, as Jack returned to the hobo camp and died sometime later.  This is the sad face of homelessness folks. I'm willing to bet you all have someone in your past with a similar story. He was someone's son. He was a friend. It makes me sad to know he's buried in a pauper's grave. The reality that truly anyone can be homeless is a sobering fact.

There are many causes of homelessness, but regardless of circumstances they are people, they are someone's son or daughter, they are someone's friend.  We must lend a hand.  So, for all the Jacks in the world I ask.......can you help?

All donations regardless of size and number are valued. All donations are appreciated. The Power of One is awesome, and when we work together The Power of One becomes The Power of Many.

Hobo and Homeless

 A-Z Challenge H= Hobo and Homeless
The above picture might be what you think of when you hear (if you're as old as me you knew the word), Hobo.  Wikipedia defines Hobo as a migratory worker, a homeless vagabond.  They believe the word started to be used in the Northwestern part of the United States around 1890.  The origin of the word is dispute/has many possibilities vs is unknown.  A Hobo travel to find work, had no permanent address.  The typically "Road the Rails" to move from one community to another.

The might have done odd jobs, usually manual labor in exchange for food, sometimes money.  They were known to hang out at the docks when ships would come and go and the rail roads.  Some thought riding the rails was a bit romantic....seeing the sites, not being tied down.  But, they often didn't have a roof over their heads or know where the next meal came from.  They weren't well received in many communities.  They spoke a language all their own with chalk symbols to leave behind important information for other Hobo's that might travel that direction.  The symbols might be as simple as a cat which meant a nice lady lives here, or top hat meaning a kind gentlemen lives here.  Those symbols would attract other Hobo's.  They might however, leave symbols indicated they weren't welcomed, to be aware of barking dogs, or mean police etc.

There were some notables who Hoboed before they made it, such as: Woody Guthrie, Robert Mitchum, Carl Sandberg and George Orwell; but..........for most it was a tough life.  Perhaps it was easier to be a Hobo then compared to being Homeless now.   Somehow I think so, towns are bigger, there are fewer families farms where you might work a day, or receive a meal, or be allowed to camp awhile.

The face of Homeless seems more wretched to me, filled with more despair and danger.

Hats, another word that starts with H.  Hats are one of the items we knit, crochet, and loom and donate.  Can you help?  A warm head can help warm the rest of the body, it can help keep someone dryer, and it can save a life.

All donations regardless of size and number are valued. All donations are appreciated. The Power of One is awesome, and when we work together The Power of One becomes The Power of Many.