Gary's on ramp

[Brian]

I met Gary on my way to work last year while waiting to turn left from Sunland Boulevard in Sun Valley to the south I-5 on ramp. Gary was standing on the median panhandling. In conversations that range from three seconds to maybe a full minute, I've learned that he went to Verdugo Hills High School a few years before I did.  He lived with his sister on Samoa Avenue in Tujunga -- only a block west from me -- until she got too sick to take care of Gary.  Then he had a nice room at a homeless shelter in Sylmar.  He has disappeared briefly at least twice for rehab.  Now he's on the waiting list for a 90-day program.

Some guy once gave Gary a hundred dollar bill, but mostly he collects chump change in a large empty soft drink cup.  One dollar seems insignificant, so I give him five dollar bills.  To manage expectations, I never vary the amount, but I always make sure I have a five on me.  Sometimes, the light is green when I pull up and I have to keep going because cars are behind me, yet I don't double the hand out the next time I see him.  Gary says that my five bucks usually allows him to quit for the morning.

Highway Patrol officers order Gary off the median whenever they drive by.  Last week, he was on the sidewalk at 8:40, looking for my old car.  As I stopped at the red light, I saw him in my rearview mirror running in front of another car that barely braked in time.  Scared and angry, I handed him the five but told him that I won't give him any more if he does that again.

Gary was back on Tuesday, chagrined and confused.  He'd never seen me pissed off -- I don't live in a world where any amount of money is worth risking life or limb.  So we made a deal to meet on the other side of the traffic light the next time he's on duty.  I'll pull over if he waits on the sidewalk under the watchful gaze of Bob's Big Boy.

[Brian]

To update my previous post:  Since then, I've only handed a few fives to Gary on the other side of the intersection.  The first time was right after I laid down the law.  He saw me coming and headed across the street, probably thinking that he had to be there to collect.  The other times, I drove through a green arrow and waited for him to cross safely.  So he gets it now.  Most mornings, we talk during red lights.  He still clings to his median, gathering dollar bills and chump change until I roll up, then he's off.

[Brian]

Except for an occasional week away, Gary has been standing on the median -- or on the sidewalk across the intersection if cops drive by -- most weekday mornings since my last post four months ago.  This is the time of year I get to take some days off, so I let him know ahead of time, and Gary always remembers.  I also gave him notice before I finally quit driving my old blue car, telling him to look for a newer white one, and he did.

After months of waiting, Gary announced in late October that he would get a cabin at a rehab facility up in Action, starting the beginning of December.  So his absence last week was welcome and expected.  But he was back at the onramp Monday -- he had been staying with his brother because the rehab date had been postposed until the 23rd.  Gary said he planned to celebrate Christmas early this year.

Meanwhile, my five dollar bill could not compete with the prize of the morning -- a giant pie, resting in a Costco box on the median.

[Brian]

Wednesday, Gary was waiting for me on the sidewalk beside Bob's Big Boy.  An LAPD officer had just given him a ticket after driving by twice and telling Gary to get off the median.  The infraction was jaywalking -- there's no crosswalk connecting the median to the sidewalk.

Two more dates to check in to his rehab cabin in Acton have come and gone, Gary says, since the last time I posted here.  He's still being told that construction isn't completed.  I didn't ask what happened with living with his brother before Christmas, but Gary had gone back to sleeping outdoors.  The good news last week is that he's living in an apartment in Sun Valley while he helps the owner with renovations on the three-unit building.