toledo streets issue #23

toledostreets.org

We are a program of the 501(c)3 non-profit

You can find us online:

$1suggested donation

Your donation directly benefits the vendor. Please only buy from badged vendors.

ISSUE #23

BECAUSE 1MATTERS | Farming in the cityPOETRY | Living Faith | SARDONIC SALAD Sudoku | HOBOSCOPES

ALSO:

The connections that change lives

The “festival of compassion” that unites a cityWITH OUR THANKS TO THE COMPANIES & ORGANIZATIONS WHO MAKE IT HAPPEN

SPECIAL TENT CITY EDITION

sections

Mental Health Support

A Brief History of Street Papers

inter

Vendors’ StoriesGregPeters

Lawrence Staler

INCLUDING

Toledo Streets - The Paper with a Mission Issue #23

Chance & choiceWhatever brings you to the intersection, you have a choice on how you act Amanda F. Moore,

Managing Editor

While Toledo Streets is a non-profit, and paper vendors are considered

contracted self-employers, we still have expectations of how vendors should conduct themselves while selling and representing the paper. The following list is our Vendor Code of Conduct, which every vendor reads through and signs before receiving a badge and papers. This Code is also printed on the back of each badge. We request that if you discover a vendor violating any tenets of the Code, please contact us and provide as many details as possible. Our paper and our vendors should be positively impacting the city. All vendors must agree to the following code of conduct:

•Toledo Streets will be distributed for a voluntary donation of $1. I agree not to ask for more or less than

a dollar or solicit donations for Toledo Streets by any other means.

• I will only purchase the paper from

Toledo Streets staff and will not sell papers to other vendors.

• I agree to treat all others—

customers, staff, other vendors—respectfully, and I will not “hard sell,” threaten or pressure customers.

• I agree to stay off private property when selling Toledo Streets.

• I understand I am not a legal employee of Toledo Streets or 1Matters, but a contracted worker responsible for my own well-being, income, and taxes.

• I agree to not sell any additional goods or products when selling the paper.

• I will not sell Toledo Streets under the influence of drugs or alcohol.

•There are no territories among vendors. I will respect the space of other vendors, particularly the space of vendors who have been at a spot longer.

• I understand my badge is the property of Toledo Streets and will not deface it. I will present my badge when purchasing the papers and display my badge when selling papers. I understand the badge and lanyard costs $1.50 to replace if lost, stolen or damaged.

• I understand Toledo Streets strives to be a paper that covers homelessness and poverty issues while providing a source of income for the unhoused. I will try to help in this effort and spread the word.

Wow. Hard to believe it’s been three years since we started this little street paper and

launched it at Tent City 2009. Then, as now, we highlighted the community event that had pulled me into direct contact with the issues facing our unhoused neighbors just two years before the paper. Tent City tends to do that—the experiences “stick” with people and there’s quite of few of us who have a handful of these amazing weekends under our belts. What is it about this weekend that draws people from all over the area to spend some—sometimes all—of their weekend serving people? Why would anyone who doesn’t have to come choose to attend Tent City? Some may site service hours for school, or projects for work or church. Some come because their faith or their conscience (or both) tell them they should “help the less fortunate.” Some come because they used to be the ones

who received the services given in Tent Cities past and want to check in on old friends, encourage them they too can get off the streets, and give back from the other “side”. Some come by choice, some by chance. In the end, what brings a person to Tent City pales in comparison to what keeps them there. You can call it compassion. You can call it “fundatory”. You can call it Al. Whatever. The point is that something happens. The “chance” circumstance that brought them becomes a conscious choice; or, the choice to get involved becomes a compelling reason to stay. At Tent City, you become a living, breathing catalyst in changing lives, much of that simply through conversation. The thing is, Tent City’s just an intersection. So is Toledo Streets. They’re designed to help, to bring awareness, but they depend on people to make them work. Those people have a choice on how. Celebrating three years of a street paper seems small in comparison to

celebrating 23 years of Tent City, but we have our own significance. The reasons for the paper are the same for Tent City: provide an opportunity for 1 person at a time to discover they matter. As I wrote back in November 2009 about my experiences with our first edition at Tent City, “...hoping what you’re doing will help someone help themselves is not the same as witnessing the transformation from poverty of self to self-empowerment.” When I hear, though, that just the other day a man spit at one of our vendors when asked to buy a paper, I wonder how far we’ve come. But that’s one choice. You made another. And we still know where we’re headed, and we still believe...

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS SMALL CHANGE.

We’d like to thank you for purchasing this copy of Toledo Streets. We hope you’re enjoying it and discovering a new facet of your community.

Please continue to support our vendors when you get the chance. For other ways to support them and the paper, contact us or visit our website for more details.

Toledo Streets is a monthly publication called a street paper. We are part of a worldwide movement of street papers that seeks to provide simple economic opportunities to homeless individuals and those experiencing poverty.

Our vendors purchase each paper for 25¢, and ask for a dollar donation. In exchange for their time and effort in selling the paper, they keep the difference. They are asking for a hand-up, not a hand out. By purchasing this paper, you have helped someone struggling to make it. Not just in terms of money, but also in the dignity of doing something for themselves. Many thanks again!

We are a non-profit organization operating under a 501(c)3 fiscal agent. This means that any donations made to us c/o 1Matters.org (our fiscal agent) are tax deductible—not to mention greatly appreciated.

Our mission is to empower individuals struggling with extreme poverty to

participate on a new level in the community through self-employment,

job training, and contributorship.

www.toledostreets.org419.825.NEWS (6397)

facebook.com/toledostreetstwitter.com/toledostreets

Toledo Streets is a member of both the NASNA and INSP, organizations

dedicated to developing and overseeing the best practices of street papers.

Vendor code of conduct

You’re now part of a local, social microenterprise program. It’s simple...

Vendor pays 25¢ for each paper,and profits 75¢ from your $1.

Toledo Streets - The Paper with a MissionIssue #23

(Mennonite)Farming in the cityThe bookbinder

Because 1MattersIt is unity that binds us together

William James O’FaheyKen Leslie

The center of our community is unity. From that center, we are all just spokes. What we do together are just spokes.

When there are enough spokes, a wheel can be formed. It is this unity that allows Mercy Health System, Promedica Health System, and UTMC to partner with the Mildred Bayer Clinic for the Homeless to deliver more expansive medical services. It is the unity of the Tent City sponsors Columbia Gas, Cherry Street Mission, Veterans Services Commission, City of Toledo Department of Neighborhoods, and countless others. The unity of the 488-plus volunteers. The unity of the media. The unity of the entire community. All these are the spokes in a big wheel of compassion we call Tent City. This community unity is continually being recognized nationally by many in the music industry, who then want to help us help many.

Help the “homeless.” That word…what is the image you are immediately thinking when you hear that word? Not the same image I am thinking of. My image is of the 16 year old Madeline, who came up to me in tears after a recent high school talk and said, “Thank you for telling my story. I am homeless.” My image is of Madeline, who carries a 3.8 GPA and plays varsity sports, getting kicked out by her dad when he got a new girlfriend who didn’t like her. That same Madeline who wanted to talk to another high school group to give back. She talked about overcoming adversity. She inspires me. When I think of helping the “homeless” this year, I am thinking of helping her. And many others like her. It is the unity that binds us together. Thank you for caring! Having founded Tent City over 20 years ago with partners like Cherry Street, Ken Leslie is continuing the vision for sustainable solutions to end homelessness for individuals. Email him at [email protected].

“Bookbinder” continued on page 6

PART I

Anna Yoder was standing on a day lit street corner (the corner of Adams and Michigan, to be precise)…

Anna was wondering, pondering really, whether the Saturday morning Food For Thought event would be enhanced if it took place in a garden green space (such as the Manos-Manhattan’s garden - just up the street – on Jackson at Adams)… Anna was aware there was a Toledo Streets newspaper vendor walking toward her, uptown, on Adams Street. It was clear that we was a vendor because of the Toledo Streets name badge hanging on a lanyard around his neck, and because of the obligatory armful of Toledo Streets newspapers. “How’d ya do sellin’ back there?” Anna asked him. “Pretty good, I mean, I sold a bunch,” the man replied, “and everyone was friendly, even the ones who didn’t buy… except for this one guy, who kinda looked like Lincoln, or, you know, the Quaker Oats guy…” “What did he do that was so unfriendly?” Anna asked. “Well, when I asked him if he’d like to buy a paper, he jumped back away from me, like he was afraid of me. I mean, maybe it was because of the color of my skin, or maybe because I’ve got a little dirt on my clothes from workin’ in the Cherry Street Mission garden this morning… Or maybe ‘cause I little paint splattered on me when I was helping with a community mural on an abandoned building…” “I think I know a little about why we was afraid of you. If, as you say, he looked like the Quaker Oats guy, then he was probably from the old order Amish church. I grew up old order Amish, and this man you describe was very likely walking around downtown while he was waiting for another Greyhound bus or Amtrak train… ya know, like a layover.” Just then, Anna’s mother, Leah, emerged from the public library across the street. Anna’s mother was dressed in the plain blue dress, white apron, and small black bonnet that are the unmistakable clothes of an Amish woman. “You see,” Anna said, “that’s my mom, and she’s still Amish. She’s visiting

me this morning, and then she’s riding with a vanload of people going back up to our family farm near Hillsdale.” As Leah crossed the street and approached Anna, Anna pointed and said, “This is my friend, Jim, and he sells newspapers, and it sounds like some Amishman who was walking by kinda hurt Jim’s feelings.” Leah answered kindly, “Well, it may have been one of the guys from our vanload who came down to see a doctor through this medical cooperative called Immergrün… what did the Amishman do?” Jim, the Toledo Streets vendor answered, “Well, he kinda hurt my feelings by the way he jumped away from me when I asked him if he’d like to buy a paper. It was, like, inhospitable… I mean, I guess I forgive him ‘cause Jesus says folks should forgive seventy times seven times… but the reason I was so hurt was I thought those Amish and Quaker guys were more tolerant, I mean, didn’t they help set up the Underground Railroad?” “Right,” Anna said. “And I understand why you would be kinda hurt, and why that churchman needs to have a Holy Spirit moment, you know, where the Spirit washes over someone and give them a godly understanding of skin color, hard work, and being poor, for starters…” “I agree,” Leah chimed in. “Even thought you’d think that a churchman of all people would know a little about poor and misunderstood folks, such as babies born in a stable and the like… But, you know, there was a learned Jewish priest who cross the road to avoid a desperate man, the one the good Samaritan finally stopped to help. The good Samaritan showed the godly hospitality, you know…” “I think you’re right,” said Jim. “Maybe I’ll go try to write a poem or a song or somethin’ about hospitality.” “Me, too,” said Anna, as she smiled sincerely to the Toledo Streets vendor as we walked away…

PART II“And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place… and suddenly there came a sound

ts

When the conversations start flowing, the lines between volunteer and guest start blurring. That’s community. Photo: Robin Charney, from Tent City 2011


Mental Health Support

If you read last month’s issue, you’ll know we covered mental health issues. As always, we tried to educate and inform.

We talked about stigma, about the people who do the hard work to save others, about the people who are being saved and their own hard work towards recovery, about the connection between poverty and mental health, about the local organizations and the variety of services provided, about the hope that’s out there. And there is hope out there. Organizations like Unison Behavioral and the Zepf Center which diagnose, prescribe treatment, and case work the underpriveleged who need help... Like St. Paul’s Community Center, a shelter that has deliberately chosen to serve the most troubled of the unhoused... Like Neighborhood Properties, which wraps services around individuals as they house them and get them back on their feet as stable, contributing citizens. We see the need every day for these organizations and more like them. We remember a couple of Tent Cities ago, when Adam came and paced all night laughing at his feet because they were telling him jokes. Or a Saturday morning at Food For Thought, when we first met Jimmy Darnell Graham, who was living in the river and was on his way to kill himself. Both are now housed, and incredibly normal. We can’t tell you how to vote, but we can tell you that your vote MATTERS. Funding for these desperately-needed organizations and their programming helps them save lives. We’ve seen it over and over again. Every Tent City, even every Saturday at Food For Thought, we meet people who need the services, AND we see again people who tell us how their lives are changing for the better because of these services. Helping people who suffer from mental illness leave the streets, get medicated, get stabilized, get housed, and get employed only helps all of us. And every 1 Matters. Right? ts

Toledo Streets


Poetry

TentThe tents went up and the people came.

They came from the missions and nearby woods.

From under bridges, abandoned houses, cardboard coverings,

And tents by rivers.

They came from around the city

And sleep outlying towns. A sign said “All are welcome”.

A weekend where the people came—

And those who did not matter came to matter.

There were tents for clothes, tents for entertainment,

Tents for haircuts and a healthy lunch.

Yes! Tents—tents and more tents.

Even a bus for that infamous prostrate exam.

By the burn barrel a man talks—he encourages others

And speaks of a better life.

For a few days the spotlight is placed

On the nation’s most important social issue.

In a few days an important local election.

Many of the local politicians turn out—

For it is very important to appear as if the issue is being addressed.

To be seen with the homeless makes great campaign fodder.

Homeless election chic! No doubt they will fade back into the woodwork.

Today I heard the new politically correct word for the homeless,

Now to be called the unhoused.

Rather nicely cleaned up. That’s nothing but shit.

Call it what it is—homelessness—and it’s growing worse.

It’s an ugly scar upon this country’s soul.

On to the evening’s activities. It was filled with excellent food,

Music, Poetry, and fellowship.

During the day, clothing, medical and dental services were offered.

Many took advantage.

As so many must do to just survive.

Then there’s the ever irresistible Ken Leslie—a possessed

Man with a cause—a great advocate—

The best friend the homeless ever had.

Tent City Mayor Steve North could be seen here, there and

Everywhere. His big heart shining.

His side kick Gary Bond—the Vice Mayor—was out and about—

So excited—pushing the cause.

It looked to be a life-changing experience.

There was Dan Rogers, Liz Simon and others from the

Cherry Street Mission who gave so much encouragement,

Thought, resources, care, and advocacy.

The message still resounds in my ears. This message for all.

A warm coat for those shaking against the cold.

Shoes for people who have no shoes to cover their feet.

Food for those lacking enough to eat.

House those who are homeless on the street.

Health care for those dying for lack of care.

A good job for a father to support his family.

An education for those who do not know

That they may come to grow.

In a land of plenty, there is plenty for all.

My heart is opened—it is shared.

For three days people came together to give.

It was people giving of themselves—everything transparent—

People being real. No sadness—no shame—if just for a day.

I could see who they were

And maybe I could finally see a little of me.

God no longer above—but God is here today.

Change our country; change our world; here this day!

Greg Peters

The poet at Tent City 2009, which the poem references.Photo: Robin Charney, from Tent City 2009


Bookbindercontinued from page 3

Illustration of a bookbinder from The Art of Bookbinding by Joseph William Zaehnsdorf.Image: Wikipedia, Creative Commons

from heaven as of a rushing, mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting… and there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. And there were dwelling at Jerusalem Jews, devout men, out of every nation under heaven…” [The Holy Bible, New King James Version; Copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.]

Anna Yoder had opened a small black Bible and turned to a random page… It happened to be Acts chapter two, the story of the Holy Spirit washing over the apostles. “Jerusalem must’ve been a city of hospitality,” Anna said out loud to herself, as well as to her mother, who was standing beside her. “Jerusalem must’ve been a city of hospitality, to shelter devout men from every nation on earth…” Anna’s mother overheard this last comment by Anna and added, “Hospitality is very important; in fact, inhospitality is one of the seven deadly sins.” Anna questioned, “The seven deadly sins according to Jesus?” “No,” Leah responded. “According to Ghandi.” Suddenly, Anna’s mother began reciting a poem… The evening’s lone shopkeeper was working late into the twilight…The skinny, kindly bookbinder filled the oil-glass for lamplight…

Reaching across his binder’s bench with tattered books and ink-stain hands,Turned page by page to glue and stitch the yellow signatures unhitched…He first arrived one afternoon and the local folks had said,“If he were one of us he would labor red calloused hands…”Strangers send the town to talking when for work and quarter begging…He did not look right for binding wheat and loading horse-drawn wagons…Nor could he, though a Christian man, find there which to lay his headSo much as a mangerly haybed, but many bid him leave instead…And later, dutifully twisting the wheel and big iron pressing ,Bound and sheared, numbered and bled…His reddened hands were crippled clamps…The evening’s lone shopkeeper worked solemnly into twilight…The gently, kindly bookbinder fell asleep under the lamplight…While o’er the cottage where he lived, starry Holy Spirit hovered,The town had gone to sleep and left a prophet undiscovered…

As Anna thought about this poem on Biblical hospitality, and even the seven deadly sins according to Mahatma Ghandi, Anna wondered aloud about whether this Holy Spirit is something revealed to a poet or songwriter, and when Anna flipped open her Bible to another random page, her eyes found Second Samuel chapter thirty-three…

“Now these are the last words of David, ‘The LORD spoke by me, and his word was upon my tongue…’”

Suddenly, Anna was aware that the Spirit was descending on her own tongue, and then sang her own song like shepherd… Like a shepherd named David…

“The loving God planted a garden,Flowering leaves will heal,Feed every color of children,Paint any color you feel…

There’s seven gifts of the spirit,And seven deadly sins,But seventy times seven sins are forgiven…

Consider, men, your ending,Consider, man, your death—

Death will come one morning,But you’ll escape in the wind…

Bedenke, Mensch, das Ende,bedenke deinen Tod!Der Tod kommt oft behende:der heute frisch und rot...

There’s seven gifts of the spirit,And seven deadly sins,But seventy times seven sins are forgiven…”

William James O’Fahey can be reached on Facebook as Amish Country Doctors, or at toledoshipyardmonster.com, amishcountrydoctors.com and toledomichigan.com. ts


it is a “nice outlet for my writing.” He’s a regular at poetry readings around town, and being published helps promote his work. When it comes to selling the paper, Peters comments that while the income is nice (the cash goes towards medical co-pays, meals, and “all that stuff just like everybody else”), his first reaction on the benefits of selling is the “validation that I’m a part of society, a contributing member ... I can be a bit of an introvert at times, and I get to meet all kinds of people. Some just chat with me, and I appreciate that.” We appreciate Greg. While he’s not a high-volume salesperson like Lawrence Staler, he gets the prize for being the most dependable. Between his contributions for content and his steady participation in sales, Greg Peters has been invaluable to the success of Toledo Streets since the beginning. We’d like you to read more of his story, in his own words—which, of course, begins with a poem...

SHUNNED EXHIBITIONSThe morning light’s illumination pierces my eyesUrging me to awaken.Rolling over—I moan—pulling the blanket over my head,Not wishing to face the world.Sitting up—cursing voices—mass confusion—Mission rising – two hundred men waking.The bitter sounds are grating.Dressing, I see a crippled man;

(and, due to technological malfunctions, yet again), whether or not he “stuck” with selling the paper, sales being something he wasn’t too sure about being successful in. As it turned out, he needn’t have worried.

TS: You were in prison twice, right?LS: Yeah. Went in for a couple years and got out on parole; went in for another almost 13 years on a parole violation.

TS: Do you mind sharing what it is you went in for?LS: Assault.

TS: How long were you out on parole?LS: Almost six and half years … [Toledo Streets: Wow.] … drinking.

TS: That entire time you were out?LS: The entire time I was in prison, too.

TS: But, while you were in prison the second time, is when you, basically …LS: I made my hooch in there … until September of 2004.

TS: And you’ve been clean since then?LS: Been clean since then—no alcohol, no cigarettes, quit drugs in ’78.

TS: How long have you been at Cherry Street?LS: Since January. [Lawrence was released from prison in December in Texas, and came up here because of his probation for child support.]

TS: You go to church over at St. Paul’s, right?

Greg has eyes that truly light up when he smiles. His face is typically framed in well-trimmed and mostly

snow-white full beard, while he keeps the rest of his head shaved, earning him the nickname of “Clean” at the Cherry Stret Mission. He’s nearly always wearing something related to the Ohio State University. Greg has been selling Toledo Streets since the inaugural issue. He can usually be found vending at the downtown Bureau of Motor Vehicles on Madison after his LINK program shift at the Mission. Chronic back problems allow him to sell for only a few hours a day, but the location provides Greg with a constant flow of both new and regular customers. He says he’s also pretty friendly with police, who’ll occasionally stop and chat with him, ask him if he’s seen so-and-so lately. The BMV can also be a magnet for panhandlers, with whom Greg has had a few verbal altercations, but now for the most part they move along when he shows up. Peters says he keeps his pitch brief and focused on the mission of the paper, rather than the content. Claiming his pleasant and professional approach nets him about 7-10% of sales with all the people he asks to buy the paper. Weather, he notes, is a big influence on sales—extreme temperatures deter people from stopping long enough to engage him. But Fridays are often good days for sales. A frequent contributor to the paper, but always with poetry, Greg says

Originally published in Issue 17—updated at the end of the article.

The paper you’re reading now is part of a program designed to allow people who want to work but are having a hard

time finding anything—or can’t make ends meet with what they have—the chance to work. Beyond weather and good judgment on location, there’s little “chance” involved in someone’s success. With a positive attitude, some patience and consistency, those who are willing to work will see it pay off in ones and twos, and sometimes more. So it was with Lawrence Staler, who skeptically signed up on a Thursday morning in early March. A friend had heard him talking about applying everywhere and not finding anything, though he desperately needed to start making some kind of income. Legitimately, of course. On our first meeting, Lawrence showed me several certificates for training he’d received in skilled labor. Then he showed me a tallied list of jobs he’d applied for in February. 310 in total, over half of them based in Ohio. None of them had accepted him for hire. Why? Because he has a criminal record. He’d served time. Apparently, employers didn’t feel it was enough punishment. Having heard before how high and rigid the obstacles are for ex-offenders trying to reenter society—so much so that many end up homeless because they can’t get a job or housing —I had wanted to focus an edition of the paper on the issue. I asked Lawrence if he’d be willing to share his story. I didn’t have to ask twice—we arranged to talk again

Vendor ProfilesGreg Peters: Shunned Exhibitions Lawrence Staler: Ready for a Second Chance

Amanda Faith MooreGreg Peters, intro by Amanda Faith Moore

Vendor Greg PetersPhoto: Paul Mason

Vendor Lawrence StalerPhoto: Amanda Faith Moore

“Peters” continued on page 10 “Staler” continued on page 12


Happy Birthday, Toledo Streets! E v e r y o n e i n v o l v e d

with the paper is grateful to Amanda Faith Moore and 1Matters.org for their commitment to this publication. Street papers are wonderful at providing both income and a voice to unhoused individuals. How did this relatively new media come about? The old-fashioned way. It started with compassionate, faith-based, top-down advocacy in which others were speaking on behalf of the disadvantaged. Over time, that evolved into a remarkable tool for empowerment and self-advocacy, the street newspaper. Some highlights along the way:

1879: After establishing its first American mission in Cleveland, the Salvation Army began to publish an early prototype; the weekly War Cry highlighted stories of destitute individuals who found God and turned their lives around, according to author Diane Winston of New York University. It also contained updates from Salvation Army posts and information on helping the poor. While tame by today’s standards, War Cry was a “dissident, underground, alternative” publication, according to Winston.

1913: The heir of a wealthy St. Louis Family, James Eads How founded the International Brotherhood Welfare Association (IBWA), a union for migrant workers that organized hobo colleges and conventions. Referred to as “The Millionaire Hobo,” How chose to ride the rails, sleep in flophouses, and help homeless migrant workers. He also started a publication called the Hoboes Jungle Scout.

1920’s: The Salvationists’ War Cry took a populist turn, featuring columns written by doctors and a “poor man’s lawyer,” as well as a women’s section on childcare and home making. Editor William Cox pursued investigative journalism, wearing old clothes and playing the part of a tramp to check out conditions at the Salvation Army’s own Lighthouse shelter for men.

1911: The Salvation Army created a second publication, The Social News, to promote services and raise funds for expansion. Later a third offering, The Young Soldier, included similar fare. The SA papers were often a starting point for women’s careers in journalism.

1915: Hoboes Jungle Scout evolved into the Hobo News, which was in operation until at least 1929. Not many copies exist today, but the paper appears to have run monthly and cost 50 cents for a one-year subscription. Popular features included job news, poems, and short stories about life on the road.

1920’s: In the aftermath of World War I, How’s Brotherhood had an influx of members with ties to the Industrial Workers of the World. Thus began an era of socialist content, including these words on the cover of Hobo News: “Published monthly in the interest of the causal and migratory workers - the Hobo Class - the modern journeyman. To enlighten the public in general and organized labor in particular on the conditions that his class is up against and the slumbering powers it embraces.” The message caused trouble with the government, which deemed it radical and withdrew the paper’s second class mailing privileges. An internal rift marked the beginning of the end. Hobo News evolved into Hobo World or was replaced by it; it is unclear what became of the paper after How’s death in 1930.

Peg Morrison

A brief history of street newspapers:

James Eads HowPhoto - Creative Commons

Our thanks to these advertisers and others in the paper for their

support! This is one way the Toledo Streets program is funded.Discover what these advertisers

did: An ad in Toledo Streets is VERY affordable!

Call 419.825.6397 for rates!


Street newspapers expanded during the 1990’s, with five new publications appearing on the scene each year, primarily in North America and Europe. However, the current decade’s difficult economy has hit the industry along with everyone else. The North American Street Newspaper Association claimed a membership of 40 in 1996, while the number on its website today is just 31. Still, our impact is strong. Worldwide there are 100 street press projects, spanning 40 countries in 24 languages. The combined readership per edition is 6 million, according to the International Network of Street Papers. That’s a lot of voices reaching a lot of people. So, congratulations! You have made change by supporting Toledo Streets. Thank you!

Sources: Street Paper Focus Group by Norma Fay Green, Ph.D. (1999); Words on the Street: Homeless People’s Newspapers by Chris Dodge (American Libraries; August 1999).

1933: Founded by Dorothy Day and Paul Mairn, the Catholic Worker focused on feeding the poor and sheltering the homeless during its 50 years of operation.

1989: The Street News began publication in New York City, as did Street Sheet in San Francisco. San Francisco’s paper is still up and running!

1992: Spare Change News opened in Boston and c o n t i n u e s to make a difference.

2009: Toledo Streets becomes the fourth street paper published in Ohio. Averaging 2,000 monthly copies and around eight to ten vendors. 2012 has seen record growth in the paper’s personal history.

1972: The first street newspaper to work with unhoused vendors was formed, The Homeless Times of Portland, Oregon. The Times has since closed its doors and been replaced by Street Roots.

1991: StreetWise was introduced in Chicago and continues to innovatively overcome economic challenges there. The paper is actually a glossy weekly magazine. StreetWise is working with the International Network of Street Papers to explore the future of street news and social enterprise in digital form.

2007: The Contributor street newspaper is founded in Nashville, TN. Within five years, they have record sales for street papers in North America and are now publishing twice a month.

A timeline of the genesis and growth of street papers

Dorothy DayPhoto - Creative Commons

Some of The Contributor’s 400+ vendors in 2010.Photo courtesy of The Contributor ts

Neighborhood Health Association

1Matters wishes to thank our wonderful partner sponsorsfor another year of making TENT CITY happen.

These organizations are key in providing desperately-needed services during our “festival of compassion,” October 26-28th.


Peterscontinued from page 7

are nonexistent,A twisted picture off-center and tilted.People, what have we done;People living on the streetLost of all social graces.Don’t tell us you can’t see our faces.It’s late in the afternoon; I draw on the inner spiritfor strength to keep my head upAs I continue my walk; looking deep in my soul— I feel this.Who am I—Who are you—And where are you going?What of this economic oppression?Our system has failed miserably.America, the richest country in the world— We have the power to end homelessness,But do we have the will?It is self-evident we have the resources.Advocate for those who have the least;Become aware; Pass it on to a neighbor.Create concrete ways to change the conditions.Put the tools in our hands; we will do the rest.Back to the mission; the day long at last done.Night draws nigh - Her curtain falls across the city.As I stand, I breathe a waking dream.Defeat the growing cycle, Perpetuate a new cycle.Homeless people are real people;We have hopes and dreams.Bring us back from shadow landInto the light of common decency.I peer out a window - Under a street lampA forgotten man stands,A stark figure—Shaking against the hard, cold night,A gesturing sculpture in a galleryOf shunned exhibitions.

I was born September 6, 1956, to Rose and Lewis Peters; a

first son, seven-pound-and-two-ounce bouncing baby boomer. I have a younger brother named Michael; a sister, Lori; and many foster brothers and sisters. I was raised in Springfield Township near the small town of Holland, Ohio. It was a country atmosphere. At the time it was all corn field and wooded lots, a great place for children growing up to play and explore. I grew up in a three-bedroom house with two parents and as many as six brothers and sisters. Yes, we had many bunk beds and scant closet space. My loving mother was great at organizing the chaos. She was an excellent cook a committed and loving stay-at-home mom. My mother will always be a saint to me. I had a dedicated father who worked at Champion Spark Plug and retired after 40 years of service. He had a great blue-collar work ethic—I can’t remember him missing a day of work. He was also a disciplinarian, but after any corporal punishment, he would explain to us why he did what he did and would then make up with us. As a child of the sixties, it was a mind-boggling time to grow up. I was influenced by the musical revolution, from rock and roll to smooth jazz to wailing blues. Culturally I was moved by avant-garde, women’s lib, the hippy counter-culture, and the prevailing capitalist consumer culture. It was the generation of drugs, sex, rock and roll. Yes, take a trip with Timothy Leary: turn on, tune in, drop out. The Vietnam Ware, the ten-thousand day war, was the war that would never end. The protests rocked the nation’s streets and shook campuses. And, 10-foot tall Russians—the missile gap that never was—nuclear standoff and the unending Cold War was all part of it. I

He winces and groans as he stands.As I brush my teeth, I feel the strong call of nature.I have toilet paper, but where can I find a clean place?In luck, I sneak into the downstairs staff restroom.After doing my appointed duty, coming out;There is no silent place to pray.Sitting on the edge of my bunk, I pray anyway.The memory of a friend comes to mind,A man small of statureBut big of heart; a gentle person who always extended kindness.Soft-spoken and easygoing, I can still see him smiling.He fought hard against fits of debilitating depression.It became too much one day; he gave up.We found him hanging in the basement.I am haunted by the feeling that there was something I could have saidor done to make a difference;I should have known.I am consoled by the belief that Dale is in a better place.My palms are sweating; I think that easily could have been me.I hitch up my pants and suck it up.As I walk out the mission doors,I sip on my coffee.Cars stopped at a traffic light;People stare as though I am some sort of alien creatureBeing viewed at the mission zoo exhibit.I feel small, disconnected, less than, dehumanized.I shake my head and continue on.On the sidewalk I console a friendWho has lost everything in the downward economic spiral.His wife is staying at one of the women’s shelters.I can see the pain etched on his face;Their separation grinds hard on him.But tomorrow will be better; he will be able to see her.I wish him a good day and go my way.In the parking lot to my left, life is in full session.An insane man is bantering with an invisible person,A dialogue of unending insults.Reagan comes to mind; he closed the mental institutions,Callous and uncaring, dumping the mentally ill onto mean city streets.

Most do not have doctors or proper medication.On barren streets their pleas rain day and night,Stripped of their humanity, left to their own incapable ends—Human outcasts pushed to the vagabond fringe.A nation’s callous indifference—cold sin and shame.A benevolent few do advocate; the missions do their best.The majority really don’t give a damn.A teardrop falls from my sunken eyes;I turn the corner. The blue rhythm is pervasive.Seeing abandoned and boarded up buildings,A grim tapestry of a city in decline.To my right a wailing street preacher—telling no liesAnd promising salvation.At the bus stop weather-beaten and grizzledOld warriors of the street drink pints of cheap wine.They are trying to kill their pain, but the pain never leaves.On torn faces, I see that pain; I feel their pain;Their searing pain reaches deep into my heart’s core.Come and look; get close to our worldAnd come to understand.The beautiful well-heeled, well-employed people have left.Good jobs are gone, never to come back.Yes—the all-American dream of downsizing and outsourcing.And we are the leftovers; society’s castaways—Life happening—We are the unwanted peopleWho do not count.Hopelessness and despair fill the hearts of many;High mountains—handholds few and far between.I am an actor in this dreary street play.Sometimes I feel broken, suffering the painOf being rejected, despised and abandoned.Like a foreign sculpture on displayIn a gallery of shunned exhibitions.Homeless nation living in unseen shadow lands.For a blind and apathetic country we “Peters” continued on page 14

Greg Peters lighting a cande at the Homeless Persons’ Memorial Service in December 2010.Photo: Robin Sulier Charney


Living Faith: Good Samaritan “did something about it”

people going about the daily course of their lives happen upon the broken and bleeding man, and Jesus describes the reactions of three of the people who encounter him. A couple of religious leader-types saw the unpleasantness as they approached, and altered their routes to avoid any direct contact with the man. While Jesus doesn’t describe any motives for this behavior, it seems reasonable enough to speculate that the rationalizations might have included things like a full schedule, or the possibility of ritual uncleanness, or a belief that it wasn’t their “job” to take care of a man unwise enough to fall into the hands of violent people. One thing is certain: both of these people went out of their way to avoid any engagement with the man’s pain. But then the Samaritan came along. He didn’t cross to the other side, but stopped along his way to help a man in need. Never mind the cultural differences between the Samaritan man and the Jewish leaders who had crossed over to the other side of the road. Never mind the realities

Anybody who’s been around Toledo very long can name all the main places to avoid: the

intersections and neighborhoods, buildings and services where the broken can be seen. They can map out alternative routes and strategic times that ensure there will be no encounter with the ugliness or unpleasantness most of us try so hard to avoid. Of course when such machinations don’t work, it’s still possible to find something of interest on the other side of the street that will divert attention and accomplish the same purpose. Unfortunately, the streets are not the only sources of such inconvenience. Nightly news casts, newspaper headlines, and television specials frequently bring us face to face with the things we’ll drive out of our way to avoid in the streets. Thankfully, turning the page and changing the channel are less taxing than all the route rearrangements needed on our daily commutes. It takes a lot of energy away from our self-advancement activities to do all of that. Jesus talked about people like those of us who avoid the unpleasantness and conviction that accompany the stark realities of life. Luke 10:29-37 records Jesus’ parable known as “The Good Samaritan.” In it, a man is beaten and left for dead along the side of a well-traveled road. Over some unknown period of time,

of animosity and division between the two people groups represented by the main players in the story. The

point of the story is that somebody didn’t go out of their way to avoid engaging the victim’s pain; that somebody paid attention to the need he saw, and did something about it. Somebody understood he was called to love his beaten neighbor, and to care for his brother’s needs. On Toledo’s streets, circumstances and systems conspire to beat people up and leave them for dead. The wounds often take the

form of generational poverty and homelessness, drug addiction and alcoholism, isolation and despair. Every day, all day, people must drive or walk past the places where the wounded often congregate, and far too many in our culture are perfectly willing to leave them wounded and bleeding on the side of the road. Moral descendents of the Levite and priest in Jesus’ parable carry on the same apathetic traditions in our time—and in this city. The issues of apathy—crossing over to the side of life’s street for the sake of avoiding engagement

with human pain—have been around for as long as there have been people. Cain, having been questioned in the aftermath of his murder of his own brother, posed one of life’s most important questions: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” He assumed its answer was unquestionably “No, and you shouldn’t have to worry about it, or answer for it.” For 23 years, Toledo’s annual Tent City has encouraged and provided an avenue for people who don’t want to ignore the wounded, who want a way to stay on the same side of the street, who refuse to conform to accepted norms of disengagement from the city’s pain. Each year people from all over Toledo and northwest Ohio come together to provide badly needed direct services to those who most need them and, even more, to create an atmosphere within which the intrinsic worth of each human being can be affirmed through relationships that outlast the weekend. Tent City offers both an invitation and a call to all of us to answer the age-old question differently. It’s a chance for all of us to say “Yes, I am my brother’s keeper,” and to do it.

Pastor Steve North, on staff both at New Harvest Church in Oregon and at the Cherry Street Mission, heads up an urban missions group called LifeLine. You can find out more about them at lifelinetoledo.com.

Pastor Steve North

ts

The point of the story

is that somebody

... paid attention to the need he

saw, and did something about it.

Located in the warehouse district, Gathered showcases

local artists in its gallery, glass blowing studio, and

private artists’ studios.

Glass opportunitiesSign up on our website and join the Gathered team to make a seasonal glass item of your own!!

Cost: $25-50 (for a 10-15 minute duration)

Demos/ Open HouseJoin us the 3rd Friday of every month for the Gathered Open House from 9-11pm.

Free to the public23 N. Huron, Toledo419.62.5501

gatheredartgallery.com


Stalercontinued from page 7

paper and you shared with me that you have a pretty set schedule for yourself. Would you mind sharing what that is?LS: I go down [to the courthouse] between 9:30 and 10 and I’m there until about 3, 3:15, or until I sell off all the papers.

TS: But you treat it like a job?LS: Yeah. I go down there and talk to people; and some of the clerks, we’ll have a little conversation. Same thing with the lawyers and

At first I thought it was going to be a pain in the ass.

TS: What, selling the paper?LS: No, talking to people. Because I been incarcerated so long, I had a f*cked up attitude. And between talking to the people, and then a couple of the people that works over at the Cherry Street Mission they helped me out with my attitude. They put me in a position where you’re either going to straighten up your attitude or you’re gonna get your head split open. They put me on double doors on weekends when I have to deal with the public, take donations, sign receipts, and deal with all the alcoholics and drug addicts that comes in at night.

TS: Now, when you say you’ve got stuff in Texas, one of reasons you haven’t taken up on that is simply because, like you said, you’re on probation for child support. And that’s one of the things that you’ve been using the paper for, correct?LS: Yeah, I’m slowly paying my child support at $50 a week right now … Oh, yeah … I got me a bank account now! With a whole $130 in it! [TS: Sweet.] And all the money came from Toledo Streets.

TS: Out of all your certifications and training, what type of job would you prefer to have at this point?LS: Ten hours a day, six days a week… 10, 12 dollars an hour.

TS: Doing what, though? Anything in particular you enjoyed most of all?LS: I like running forklifts. I like working machine shops, especially if they have a chrome-plating department. I like to chrome-plate. I enjoyed that when I was in Houston. I like refineries, too. I used to be a first-class pipe-fitter helper—I

liked doing that. There’s a whole bunch of things I like doing. I like doing framing. My knees won’t let me do concrete work or roofing no more.

The above interview was done Wednesday, April 4th. Since then, Lawrence has purchased over 4,800 papers, received a car donation through Food For Thought—and, despite maintenance issues, has allowed him some ablity to travel to more opportunites for odd jobs and paper sales—and continued to apply for jobs. Staler is currently finishing up a class on job readiness with the Economic Opportunity Planning Association (EOPA). He says he leaves Cherry Street Mission at 6:30 am and doesn’t get back until 9:00 pm. In that time, he’s searching for jobs at The Source, attending his class, selling papers in the afternoon (still at the Municipal Court), doing his class homework, and attending a Bible study. Selling papers can be an up-and-down experience, and Lawrence was recently spat at after asking a man to purchase a paper. Looking a bit discouraged, he says about 5% of the people he approaches actually buy a paper, and he’s “found out that people in Toledo are cold-hearted to people who are homeless and trying to come up.” However, Staler has established a loyal clientele through his persistence and he says he appreciates all that his customers have done for him—money, prayers and gifts. Lawyers he has met while selling by the Municipal Court have opened doors for extra work, and were the first to place ads when his strong work ethic led to Toledo Streets offering him the chance to sell advertising in the paper—for which he earns a 30% commission. On being an advertising representative, he comments that he “knew it would be hard, but not this hard.” His hope is to make enough commission so that he doesn’t have to sell in extreme cold and inclement weather this winter. Lawrence continues to hope for a chance for a full-time job, something with a steady paycheck. The goal is to buy a house in back taxes. He wants to garden again. “I miss canning, cooking, yardwork, cleaning up my own place, and privacy.” After so long in prison and now in a shelter, who wouldn’t want a place to call home? Good luck, Lawrence. ts

press … takes two hands to operate it. It’s like 25,000 pounds of pressure goes down on a metal plate to cut out the holes in leather.

TS: So, all in all, you’re certified for how many different kinds of positions you could hold?LS: Four. And when I was in prison, I learned how to lay brick, block, tile… that’s about it. Learned how to get into a lot of trouble. [Laughter.]

TS: Probably learned more how to get in trouble than you did before you got in there?TS: [Laughter.] Yeah.

TS: With all of that, you’ve applied for all kinds of different positions…LS: I’ve applied for forklifts, management positions in warehouses, supervisor positions in warehouses. I used to work in the 70’s at McDonald’s restaurant on Woodville Road—which it ain’t there no more—so I’ve applied for Taco Bell, Wendy’s, Burger King, couple meat markets, even applied for McDonald’s and never heard from them. I’ve applied for working at Coco-Cola assembly lines. Machine shops. That’s about it.

TS: So you’re still waiting for somebody to cut you a break for something you can stick with…LS: Just Ohio’s gotta get their heads outta their asses and quit holding grudges against everybody and give people a chance. You give people a chance, Ohio’ll pick up on business. Especially Toledo. Hire an ex-convict. Yeah, you’re gonna have a few bad apples, but not all of us is bad. Some us wanna get our lives together and move on, not be held back.

TS: At one point you told me that in February you applied for 310 positions, 188 of those in Ohio. And the majority of them turned you down because of your criminal record.LS: Yeah, criminal record and the fact that I’m on probation for child support, or both, and I even had three of them turn me down because of my race.

TS: And if you don’t mind sharing that?LS: I’m Native American, not white.

TS: You’ve done really well so far with the

LS: Yeah, I said a prayer that first Sunday I missed church in quite a few years. A guy came up to me and said, “Hey, there’s a church down at 13th and Madison.” I walked down there the next Sunday, and walked in the chapel and started crying, cause my prayer was it would be a church similar to the one I came from in prison —with ceiling fans, hangman bars with lights on them, and a projector screen. And I walked in there and it had all that. I don’t agree with the Methodist way of believing, but hey, God sent me there for a reason. But, I like it. I was giving nickels and dimes at first and that on offerings and tithes, then I started giving bus tokens. Now I’m finally giving dollar bills.

TS: You actually served time in the state of Texas, correct?LS: Yeah … [TS: Ok.] … men’s prison.

TS: But you’re actually from here in Toledo?LS: Yeah, I’m from here in Toledo. But Texas has got men’s prisons; Ohio has got … eeehhh … wimpy prisons.

TS: [Laughter.] And you appreciate the Texas process a little bit more than what’s going on in Ohio, correct?LS: Yeah.

TS: Part of that is because, in Texas…LS: Texas and that, when you apply for a job, they’ll ask you one question: Are you willing to work? And you say yes, and you go to work for ‘em and you’re hired. There’s no such thing as “we’re going to live in your past” or “hold your past against you” like here in Toledo and the state of Ohio. Texas don’t care; long as you’re willing to work, that’s all they care about.

TS: One time, I don’t know if you have it with you, you showed me you have certifications for a lot of different things you’ve trained for.LS: In prison, I got a certification for forklifts—I got six and half years of forklift operation, from gas, diesel, electric, all the way up to 8,000 pounds. I got quality technician where I worked a boot factory in prison, where I had to make sure the top quality of the boot for shipping, and everything else went back for material. I got sewing machine, high-speed production certification. I got a slicking machine, which is like a mini-


The volunteers and guests of this year’s

Tent City wish to thank

for their outstanding support of Tent City and 1Mile Matters, October 26th-28th.


Peterscontinued from page 10

ts

remember that great day in 1969 when America landed a man on the moon and the dark days of the Kennedy assassinations that saddened the country. Men marched by the hundreds of thousands demonstrating for civil rights. The sixties were a tumultuous decade, yet a great decade. It was a time of change and happening fast and the quickening pulse of transformation shook the nation and changed it forever. The sixties were a blur before this child’s eyes. Amid these times I was baptized, catechized and confirmed in faith at Providence Lutheran Church. I attended Holland Elementary School and Springfield High School, graduating in 1974 with letters in football, wrestling and golf. When I was a freshman in high school, I experimented with drugs and for many years I used drugs in a casual and recreational manner. This decision would come to haunt me later in adult life. After high school, I joined the U.S. Air Force and was assigned to Kelly Air Field as a civil engineer. I was honorably discharged in 1977. In 1978 I met Lisa Floyd and we fell in love. We were wed at Our Lady of Perpetual Help parish in 1982. We lived in Whitehouse and for several years we attended St. Joseph Catholic Church in nearby Maumee. After some happy years together, we divorced in 1991. A year later, I met Monica May and after a year of courtship, we married in a ceremony at her sister’s home in Phoenix, Arizona. We have a beautiful daughter named Haley, who is the apple of my eye. She has a full scholarship at the Memphis Institute of Art. At this time, the casual drug use became ugly, turning into hard drug abuse and finally compulsive addiction. During those years I was searching for the deeper meaning of life. I studied philosophy and world religion and eventually became a member of the Hindu Temple of Toledo. But the answer I was looking for eluded me. During those seven years of marriage, there were periods of abstinence, only to lapse back into time of addiction. After seven years, Monica and I divorced in 2000. To Monica and Haley, I

apologize. I am sincerely sorry. For the next three years I fought a losing battle with heroin addiction, and it came to a head with me being fired from the Chrysler Jeep Corporation in 2003, a job I had worked for 23 years. Addicted to heroin, I burned all my bridges and became a pariah—a vagabond drifter.

________________

I was torn straight down.The day dark and night long;A living hell—unholy shades of gloom;Threatening skies were angry and black.I reeled from cursing attacks.Life’s storms, dark tempest roar,All was empty in the store.Cast down, deep oppression,My failings were great.A helpless craven state;I looked around—no escape;Burning arrows in my side;Poor soul ripped from my hide.Self-hate, misery, pain abound.Cry out to help around;Prisons, death, institutions;A multitude of confusion;The coffin a wished-for sight;Morality says it’s not right.I, a tormented and suffering man,Curse God for letting me live;Dammit, God, please just let me die.I sat on a log and cried.Homeless on the street, in the gutter;My self-made Hell, what a damned shame.My life a self-centered disaster.Lost homes, wives, broken dreams,Cry for my daughter, her father gone.Oh Lord—my tattered, shattered soul -Can anything make me whole?One day too high staring at the sky,The spirit whispered to me.He said, “I am your creator.Your eyes wide open, you cannot see.I will lift you up, try asking me.I am the Absolute, AlmightyGod of heaven and earth.”As I grabbed his hand, I found I could stand.My sad, suffering lost soul;The Lord restored, made me whole.Cut asunder my demons doneBy the power of His son;In that moment self-same,He swept away all the pain.His spirit I did meet.He restored faith, hope and charity;This was not a rarity.I was inspired with love from the Spirit

above.ABBA—a precious child I was,Showered with all his favor;He said, “Son, if I stand with you nothing can stand before you.Now stand in my name.In my image you are created.A joint heir to the throne;With My Son you are seated.”And God gave me this vision?Being in a new way, embracing the world,No fears, no anxiety, no past, no future.Just being in the moment; the eternal present,A glorious present from God.Know we are worthy and loved just as we are,Knowing the Father is our God and Christ is His sonAnd we are his people. All of us here in unity as an end in itself.I am whole. We are whole. We are holy.“Stand up—live in My name with gratitude, appreciation and adoration.A LIFE FULL OF INSPIRATION.”

________________

When I arrived at Cherry Street Mission, my life was in tattered disarray. But it did turn around. I was delivered from heroin addiction 6 years ago. I owe God, the Catholic Church, and the Cherry Street Mission everything. I started attending historic St. Patrick Church in Toledo on September 1, 2006, and there a spirit of renewal moved within me. Under the guidance of the pastoral associate, Sister Mary Dean Phaler, I joined the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA), where I spent many months in reflective contemplation to bring about a strong spiritual formation. I also owe much to Father Denny Hardigan, Deacon Tom Carone, and my church sponsor, Mark Glen, who was always there for me. At the Easter Vigil in 2007,

I was received as a full member of the Catholic Church. It was a great day; one I will never forget. I am currently celebrating my fifth year as a Catholic. My thanks to the people of historic St. Patrick Parish. Your hospitality is s e c o n d - t o - n o n e . Your support is without measure. The church has been a rock solid island amid the world’s raging storms. I attended and drew inspiration from The Servant Leadership Center, a place I heard about through word of

mouth. It has opened my mind to many truths and possibilities. Speaking to the social gospel of Jesus Christ, it encourages me to take the gospel to the world. I believe we can change the world for the better, with every day being a call to constant conversion for all. They have opened my mind and convinced me that major change must occur if this human race is to survive. My world views have undergone a major overhaul. For instance, I have converted to pacifism and become a firm believer in the green revolution and in living the simple life. I am currently active in the Toledo area poetry beat and I am a member of the Collingwood Arts Center Writer’s Group. Having first-hand experience with homelessness, I have chosen to log many hours as a volunteer at the Cherry Street Mission, where I continue to reside. The experience is very fulfilling. I believe we are making a difference in the lives of many people. As an advocate for the homeless, much of my poetry articulates the experience of working to increase awareness of the growing problem. Without a doubt, life happened in a different way for me and I am grateful for the life mission God has set before me. It has been an honor to share my life with you. In gratitude, Greg

I was delivered

from heroin addiction 6 years ago. I owe God,

the Catholic Church, and the

Cherry Street Mission

everything.


HoboscopesMr. Mysterio

LIBRA | It’s the season of punctured pumpkins on porches, fake tombstones in front yards and plastic skeletons dangling in doorways. I think people like halloween so much because it takes all that serious stuff like death and decay and it allows us to take it less seriously. It’s the time of year when we can laugh at the reaper and run toward the things that go bump in the night. So, Libra, whether or not you put fake cobwebs around your windows and sit an animatronic screaming zombie in the passenger seat of your car, take this opportunity to embrace those things that usually scare you the most. You’ve got the rest of the year to fear the darkness but at least a few more weeks to enjoy it.

SCORPIO | When the rain began to pour in sheets and you could barely see the road, you were undeterred. When your car finally broke down right outside that creepy old motel, you remained ever hopeful and ready to move forward. When the one-armed clerk with the dead eye and the terrible stutter booked you into room 13, you thanked him and didn’t even flinch. But now it’s the third time you’ve looked in the mirror and seen an old woman in a wedding gown and you can still hear a little girl laughing at you from behind the stained curtains, not to mention the wallpaper that’s peeling back just enough that you can see desperate handprints and scrawled notes begging for help. I think it’s time to reconsider the path you’re on, Scorpio. Maybe you should get out of that room. Forget the rain. Ditch the car. Just call a cab and head back home. Wherever you were going, it may not be worth what you’re going through. SAGITTARIUS | Trick or treat? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. It looks like a treat. It unwraps like a treat. It smells like a treat. But the only way to find out if it’s really, truly not a trick is to treat it like a treat. Down the line you can remember all the times you nearly got tricked or you can remember all the treats you enjoyed.

CAPRICORN | Every year you wait. You walk your blanket out to the middle of the most sincere pumpkin patch in the county and you wait. Sometimes you sit with your skeptical friends and sometimes you just sit alone with your blanket and your unwavering faith; and you wait. Will this be the year that your perseverance pays off? Will it finally happen, just the way you’ve always known it would? You may not know this Capricorn, but you aren’t just waiting out there for your own benefit. You’re doing it for all of us. You’re doing it because you can, even when we can’t. You’re doing it because we need to know somebody is out there waiting. I may not have your patience or your faith, but I rest easier knowing that if somehow that great

pumpkin really does rise up out of the night, at least one patch won’t be empty. AQUARIUS | You know who doesn’t have his own holiday? Bartolomeo Columbus. The younger, less famous brother of Christopher Columbus spent his life making maps, asking royalty for money to fund his voyages, sailing the ocean blue and colonizing the new world. But it’s still Christopher who gets all the credit. Frankly, I’m glad Bartolomeo didn’t live to see people opening their banks and delivering mail on his birthday. I’m partly glad because he might feel bad about all the attention his brother gets, but mostly because he’d be 550 years old and would probably have some crazy accent that nobody could understand and he’d complain about his achy knees a lot. The point is, Aquarius, it’s hard not to care about who gets the credit for all the work you do. You really should get more credit. There should be parades and TV specials and cities named after you. But even if you don’t get the credit, keep doing the work. In 550 years, it won’t matter much who did what, but today what you do matters to you.

PISCES | Do you like music, Pisces? Of course you do. You’re a living breathing human person and of course you like music. But do you ever listen to music anymore? I mean, like really listen? I can’t blame you, it’s absolutely everywhere. It’s the air we breathe. It’s in the grocery store and at the coffee shop and in the car and beating through the neighbors’ wall. I think this is a great time to catch up. Try listening. Try listening without doing. Just listening. Pick something you haven’t heard in a long time and take a long, intentional listen.

ARIES | This time of year, I can’t help but think about how we all wear costumes. Some of us wear so many costumes in a day we don’t know who we are. Some wear the same costume so long we can’t remember what’s underneath. Even if you strive for honesty and authenticity in everything you do, Aries, even that can be a costume some of the time. The nice thing about halloween is that costumes get to come out in the open. It’s a good reminder that you get to choose. You get to dress up however you want. The only condition is that you wear a costume that you like and that you really, really mean it. This is your chance to be anybody you want. It doesn’t matter if you’re too tall to make a convincing hobbit or too fat to be Captain America. Just as long as you choose something you love, the costume will fit you just fine.

TAURUS | Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our usual program of Hoboscopes

to bring you a special bulletin from the Intercontinental Network of Amateur Astrologers. At twenty minutes before eight this evening, explosions of incandescent gas were reported across the surface of the planet Mars. The spectroscope indicates the gas to be hydrogen and moving towards the earth with enormous velocity. Please remain vigilant and be on the lookout for large, destructive tripodal vessels carrying bacterially-compromised martian beings. Reports indicate they may fire disintegration beams if provoked and seem to seek only the destruction of the human race. Also be on the lookout for any other panicking Tauri who may have read and believed this facetious horoscope.

GEMINI | This sign says “Falling Rock” but for some reason you’re looking around for evidence. Where is a falling rock? When did it fall? You can stand there asking questions or you can get out of the way. One thing I know about the warnings by the road is that they don’t work as well when you stop to ask for proof.

CANCER | I hear there’s a great old haunted house just outside of town. It’s got a broken gate with a rusted latch and the bony branches of the old dead tree in the front yard still sway and scrape across the clouded glass of the upstairs window. Of course, if you think about it, Cancer, haunted houses might be the only kind of houses. Any place that you’ve spent enough time fills up with ghosts, shadows and dusty cobwebs in every corner. But our haunted houses don’t have to be the scary places we make them. Turn on the lights, dust out the corners and maybe try striking up a conversation with some of those ghosts. Talk about the past. Talk about the future. You’ll still be living in a haunted house, but at least you’ll have company.

LEO | This is about the point in the cycle when it’s not even fun rooting for your favorite candidate anymore. It’s been going

on for so many months and there’s still so many weeks to go and everybody just seems desperate and pleading and nobody really seems to have it right. But somehow the people on the news and the people on the radio and the people on the internet just keep on name-calling and arguing and debating. Yes, election year exhaustion is a real thing. Fortunately, election year exhaustion is treatable and, in many cases curable. The first thing you have to do is unplug. Turn off the TV. Put on some music. Use the internet to connect to another human being that you actually know and who actually knows you. Go for a walk. If you see a rival political sign in somebody’s yard, look past it and try to think about all the good things and love and laughter that happen inside that house. How it isn’t much different than yours. Drink plenty of water. Get plenty of rest. Now just hang on tight to your humanity for a few more weeks and everything can get back to normal.

VIRGO |Recent studies show that kidney stones are on the rise in America. One in 10 men and 1 in 16 women have experienced the levels of pain that accompany passing a small calcium oxolate deposit from the kidneys into the urinary tract and then out of the body. That means more people undergoing greater levels of discomfort than in previous years. That means more people walking around feeling generally uncomfortable and irritated. That means more people who need you to give them a break. As it has been said, you must be kind, because everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle, some against injustice or a difficult past, some against the forces of this dark world and even some against kidney stones. Take it easy on each other out there.Mr. Mysterio is not a licensed astrologer, an unaccompanied minor, or an associated act.

Hoboscopes appear courtesy of The Contributor street newspaper in Nashville, TN.

toledo streets issue #23

Documents