From this point forward I had to take care of myself. I saw things like this on National Geographic. One day a cub sits by watching the mother lioness intensively staring down its prey, and at the prime moment, attacks, devours, and shares her kill with the cub. A few months later it’s a different situation entirely. The cub routinely follows his mother just as he had in the past. In the back of his mind he’s thinking, dinner will be served in a few short minutes. He watches his mother stare at her prey and wait for the opportunity to attack. Finally, she makes her move and begins to run at top speed. As she approaches her victim, she launches in the air onto the back of her prey and forces it to the ground. Once on the ground, the lioness cuts the victim’s throat with the nails from her claws. As the lioness begins to devour her kill, the young cub moves in closer and waits for his mother to rip off a healthy portion of meat to share, but to his surprise the lioness turns on him as if he were an enemy. In that moment, the cub realizes he must hunt his own prey if he is to eat again.
It was about 8:45pm—pitch-black, and reality was setting in. I was homeless. The whole day was like a blur and I was in a daze; it was as if I was paralyzed. Every time I thought about moving, the strangest thing happened: when I tried to walk, I was literally stuck. I said to myself, “Eric, you need to go someplace where it’s warm, someplace safe, but every time I tried to take a step forward nothing happened. I heard a voice whisper in my ear, “You messed up real bad this time. What are you going to do now, huh? You just going to sit there and do nothing, is that it?” “Every time you’re in a crunch, like a little punk, you freeze up. You wanted to be a grown man well you are grown now. Ain’t nobody going to bail you out this time!” As hard as it was to listen to those words, I knew they were real. Like the cub, I was on my own. Suddenly, I stood up tall, lifted my head, wiped the tears from my eyes, and cleared my thoughts. By this time it was a little past 9:30 pm, and there were a few things I knew for sure. The weekend was over and I had school the next day; I needed to decide where I was going to sleep and how I was going to eat.
I don’t’ ever remember a time before this situation that I was eager to be in school. It’s funny how one situation can change your whole perspective. Now, I was eager to get to school in the morning. When I walked out the front door of Lathrup High School that Friday afternoon, school was the last thing on my mind. Other than recess, lunch and track and field, I didn’t care too much for it. I was already pissed off because my parents moved us out of Detroit to the suburbs. One day out of the blue my parents told me that I would not be returning to Detroit Henry Ford High School. They told me I would be attending Southfield Lathrup. I had gone to the neighborhood schools since I was in the first grade, first McKinney, Taft, and then Ford. I couldn’t believe they could be so selfish. What was I supposed to do, just start all over in the 11th grade? Maybe my parents would have been justified; sending me to a new school in my freshmen year, but to do it during my junior year was unacceptable. I had experienced eight years of bonding with friends, and all that went down the drain because my parents wanted to move to the suburbs. Going from a predominately black school to a predominately white school created some unique challenges. There were few black teachers and it was obvious that the white teachers were not accustomed to dealing with black students, especially black males. I was in the principal’s office on a regular basis for either disrupting the class or insubordination. Not to mention the fact that I was having some major academic challenges changing from the Detroit Public School curriculum to Southfields Public School curriculum. Lathrup’s academic pace was ten times faster than Detroit’s. I hardly ever had homework at Henry Ford and rarely had more than one test a week. I had homework on a regular basis at Lathrup and it was nothing for three or more teachers to give tests the same week. I hated everything about Lathrup, the faculty and staff, the academics, and on top of that their athletic program was terrible.
Just three days ago the only reason I wanted to be in school was for the girls, field trips, or a pep rally. Now I couldn’t wait for the doors to open. I needed to get out of the cold and get into a place where I felt safe. But first, I needed a place to lay my head that was in walking distance of my bus route. There was a stop near Melvin’s house, which seemed perfect at first, but I was somewhat leery because my parents knew where Melvin lived and would almost certainly check for me there. “Don’t even think about it,” I said to myself before I could finish my next thought. Have you lost your mind?” I knew it was risky. It would be secluded enough so that no one would know I was there, but close enough to Melvin’s house that if something happened, I could run to his house for help.
I stood there for a few seconds trying to convince myself that getting up from my spot behind the park to head toward my final destination for the night was worth it. It was more difficult than it sounded because even though it was officially spring, somehow the sun didn’t get the message. Michigan’s weather is weird like that; it might be in the upper 50’s during the day and drop to the lower 20’s by nightfall. The first few steps were hard. The last thing I wanted to do, especially on an empty stomach, was walk another mile. When I first stood up, I couldn’t feel my legs and I was fatigued, but a surge of energy kicked in. I took my hands out of my navy Eastbay lettermen jacket and sped up my pace. I passed the Synagogue on Lahser Rd. and was approaching Melvin’s street, Ivanhoe. I thought about stopping for quick second, but knew I didn’t need to get sidetracked. While walking I couldn’t help but think how in less than 24 hours my whole world had turned upside down. I went from living a middle-class life style, which consisted of having my own room, wearing the latest gear, going to upscale restaurants, traveling every now and again, having my own car, to being homeless. It felt like a bad dream but I knew it was much deeper than a dream this time. After walking more than an hour, I had made it. It had been a long day and I was ready to get some sleep. But something in my spirit was saying take a peek through the window of the house to make sure no one is up. As I had expected, the lights were off and it appeared that my parents were asleep. I figured the backyard of my parent’s house would be the safest place for me to lay my head until I could find some place better. My survival instincts kicked in and I went to my neighbor’s patio and borrowed their sofa cushions from their patio set. There were big bushes in our yard that sat a few inches from the house. I figured if I slept between the wall and the bushes no one would see me. Once my bed was situated, I put my arms through my shirt to keep warm and placed my coat over me. As I lay there trying to fall asleep, I noticed how gorgeous the sky was. It had a deep black coat that made the stars shine brightly. I began to whisper a short prayer. “God, I don’t know if you really exist, but if you do and you can hear me, I need some help. Please keep me safe tonight, forgive me of all the things I have done wrong, Amen.”
“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.”
1 Corinthians 13:11
SECTION
II
THE SOLUTION