Ron

I walked back and forth past Ron for a couple of hours while I was doing a shoot downtown. Finally, on the third or fourth pass, we made eye contact and then shared a five or ten minute conversation. Ron doesn't own shoes and seemed happy to be resting his swollen feet. He cheerfully engaged me and asked about my life and I asked about his.

At one point, there was a lull and then he broke the silence by saying, almost in a groan:

"Will you help me..?"

"How can I help you, Ron?"

"I'm hungry."

"I can give you five bucks. That should get you something around here."

"No one lets me in. Could you just get me something from that corner store? The guy just yells at me when I go in there.'Get out! Get out! You smell!'"

"I'm sorry, Ron."

"You're not sorry."

So after receiving careful instructions, I bought Ron a can of Diet Coke, a cherry Little Debbie fruit pie and some sour cherry gummies.

"Hey Ron, do you mind if I make a portrait of you?"

"Why? You never seen anything like me before, huh?"

I told Ron his story is worth telling and I'd like to tell a really small part of it, if I could. He agreed.

"I guess I shoulda shaved before I got my picture taken, huh?"