This was originally to be an interview with a prostitute; elle aye and I took a road trip to the Music City to find one. However, we were unable to so we decided a homeless person (or the habitat challenged, as my P.C. watchdogs urge me to say) would be better.
We searched the River Front Park area and found three such people. Two were asleep so I decided not to interview them ( I would hate it if some quasi-journalist awoke me from a slumber just so I could be asked some questions about my lifestyle. I would be pretty pissed).
I approached the third man; he was sitting on the concrete rows that face the Cumberland River -- he's staring out across the body of water. At his left-hand side were a white, styrofoam container (probably with a hamburger in it) and a can of Busch. He was dressed in clothes that aren't too tattered, but could use a visit to a Laundromat. With his long hair and beard he resembles an ex-member of the Statler Brothers.
I asked him if he wanted to be interviewed. I expected him to either say: "No!" or do the Saint Vitus' Waltz while shouting obscenities at me in the Martian language. However, he agreed to the interview.
Terry, in his mid-30s, is from Louisiana. He is divorced and has three children. He works at a temporary agency doing $5 an hour jobs, such as working on a demolition crew at an old Nashville Gas Company building, tearing down the inside walls so that it can be made into a bank. He has also worked in Donelson, Tenn. framing a Super 8 Motel. Other jobs include the Cool Spring Mall, and a golf house in Franklin, Tenn.
"They send you everywhere," Terry said. "Doesn't pay much, but I do all different things."
Terry works during the week; on the weekends he'll hang out at the park to watch the workers, on the other side of the river, labor on a ship. "Nothing else to do."
However, bars are another place Terry patronizes. "I'm an alcoholic," he said. "I'm not ashamed to admit it." He has been in rehab several times; he tells himself each time that he is going to quit for good, but "an hour out" he resumes his habit.
"Nothing else to do....when I'm at a bar I'm not going to drink a coke," he said.
Terry has been taken to jail for having a beer in the park: a bicycle patrolman said he couldn't have the beer there. Terry smarted off and the patrolman told him he was going to jail. "I'd like to see you take me to jail on that bike," he told the cop. A squad car was requested and it took Terry to the Nashville jail.
The incident angered him, especially since concerts are held there at the park, and beer is sold -- no one at the concerts is arrested. "They'd never do that to a tourist."
Overall, Nashville has been kind (metonymically speaking) to Terry. "I've made a lot of friends," he said. He has been harassed by a few people, but he ignores them.
However, he isn't rooted to this city. Whenever he gets the chance, he'll hitchhike or hop on a train to other parts of the U.S., such as Daytona Beach, Birmingham, or Casper. "I like Casper, Wyoming, except for the winter," he said.
He's been to Atlanta too, but tries to avoid it now. One time when he arrived there, he got into the car of a friend. An accident involving the car crashing into a horse and buggy sent him to jail -- and he had only been in the city for an hour.
On another visit, he noticed the vice squad was out; he saw a prostitute and warned her about them. But the hooker was an undercover cop, and she had him jailed for interfering with vice work.
Many of you, if not all, are wondering: "Just how did Terry end up homeless?" Well, to explain that I must tell a little bit of his past: Terry got married to his wife when he was 17; and worked for the Alliance Company making $9 an hour (this was in the '70s, so he was making damn good money).
However, after nine years of nuptial they decided to divorce. Why? "I don't know, " he said. "After a while we just grew up." The divorce was a peaceful one: he gave his ex-wife the house, the car, and the majority of his possessions. He put a few clothes in a saddlebag and drove off on his Harley (that he had back then).
"Never seen her since," he added. "Don't want to... it's over." However, he still talks to his 18-year-old daughter on the phone (I get the impression he loves her very dearly).
He went to Daytona, then to Nashville, but he went back to the Florida City before he settled in Tennessee. Why Nashville? "It's where I ended up," was his reply.
Terry reluctantly told me where he sleeps. He was afraid to because it could cause expulsion for him and his friends: he sleeps in a parking garage. There is a secret way to get into it that only he knows -- except for his friends he has told.
The place even comes with its own alarm clock: an air conditioner on a timer that activates at 4:45 a.m. This wakes him to get ready for work. He also has a few blankets stashed there in case he gets chilled.
One time the ole alarm clock didn't awake him, and the employee who opens the garage iscovered him. However, Terry wasn't expelled because he knew the employee. "The guy who opens up is cool," he said.
The "guy" asked Terry what he was doing here. Terry replied that he was going to get drunk since he was late for work. The "guy" handed him $2 and told him to get him a beer, too.
Terry, even with a paying job, doesn't want a home: "Don't see a need for one."
He even avoids the shelters, except to take a shower. He said the mission is a "home for criminals." He warns any possible residents to "sleep with your eyes open" because they will take your boots and wallet (so be careful).
And so the interview ended. I shook his hand, leaving him to watch the workers on the other side of the river. He asked me what this was for. I told him I was doing a story on the homeless.
"There's plenty of them," he said
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