Two Men - Two Conversations
I’ve been working on a photographic essay of sorts on the homeless in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. I’m working with another minister to turn the project into a fund-raising venture for his homeless ministry.
One of the fun things about the project is getting to know my photographic subjects. Very rarely do they get the chance to talk to someone truly interested in them and once you earn their trust, they really open up.
Yesterday, I spoke to a man named Carlos. Carlos is a tall, black man who had a pretty funky haircut. I asked him about it and he told me that he had just finished up parole and his long hair was a sign that he was finally through that stage in his life (his parole officer had required him to keep his hair short). We spent some time talking about how hard it is for a guy in his position, convicted of a drug felony, to just get an apartment, let alone a job. After I started photographing him, he asked me, “Tell me, you’re a Christian, aren’t you?” I asked, “Why do you ask?” He said, “I bet you’re non-denominational too. See, I’ve been here on the street for over eight months and the only people that I’ve seen down here trying to help us out are non-denominational Christians. I don’t see Muslims, Jews, Catholics, or any big-name denominations down here, but just some guys like you. Let me tell you, I really appreciate it. God bless you.”
I also photographed a man named George. Before I photographed him, I introduced myself and asked him about his life. He had had a very hard life. He had gotten hook on drugs, been in a car accident that maimed him for life, and had been on the street for over ten years. He mentioned that he frequently eats lunch at the Methodist Church downtown.
After I photographed him, thinking of his Methodist lunches, I asked him if he knew the Lord and he responded, “How could I know him? God destroyed him at the very beginning and now we have to deal with evil on our own.” I witnessed to him that Jesus hadn’t ever been destroyed, but that he was resurrected and alive today. He didn’t want to anything to do with that. Indeed, he didn’t want to hear anything to do with the Lord, how he was resurrected, and how he came to rescue us. As George walked off, I thought back to my mildly retarded five-time bank robber client, Rodney, who was born-again on the telephone right after he was admitted to Levenworth prison. I thought about the fact that I’ll see Rodney again, but that was probably the last time that I’d ever see George.