2008 Woodie Awards
Don't judge a book by its cover, even when it's covered in rags
Erin Cooper, Staff Writer
Issue date: 2/22/06 Section: Opinion
He stood about 5 ft 8 inches tall with scraggly brown hair. His jeans were old, dirty and torn along with the shirt he was wearing. The glasses he wore needed to be cleaned and fixed. It was true he was dirty, yet despite his outward appearance he always smiled when he walked through the doors of the sandwich store.
During my high school years, I worked at a local sandwich store in Gilroy. I guess you could say bums tended to hang out there, not because of the location of the store, but rather because of the kindness myself and employees gave them.
His name was John. All I knew when I first saw met him was he was young, homeless, and walked with a horrible limp. From his appearance many assumed he had suffered either brain damage or was mentally disabled in some way. The words he spoke came out slurred and only one side of his mouth worked. I could tell he was embarrassed by the way he talked, but he never forgot to say thank you with a smile on his face. Gratitude was what I appreciated the most from the people we helped that were less fortunate, just a simple thank you.
The store that I worked out freely made sandwiches for homeless people, at least the ones who really needed them.
We had our regulars: Bullwinkle, John, and an old man who carried his guitar with him ever where he went.
People would stare and walk away when they saw any of them come in, but they didn't know them like we did. The customers didn't know their stories. In a word, the "bums" were friends.
John was the only one I didn't know very well. He never stayed long enough to hold a conversation. I think a lot of it had to do with the way people were afraid of him. A lot of customers would just sit there and stare at him. When he came in I would simply make his usual tuna sandwich and then wait for his normal smile and "Thank you" as he walked out the door. I had always wondered about him, why was he were he was at such a young age? It wasn't until my junior year I got to hear his story, as heart breaking as it was.
During my high school years, I worked at a local sandwich store in Gilroy. I guess you could say bums tended to hang out there, not because of the location of the store, but rather because of the kindness myself and employees gave them.
His name was John. All I knew when I first saw met him was he was young, homeless, and walked with a horrible limp. From his appearance many assumed he had suffered either brain damage or was mentally disabled in some way. The words he spoke came out slurred and only one side of his mouth worked. I could tell he was embarrassed by the way he talked, but he never forgot to say thank you with a smile on his face. Gratitude was what I appreciated the most from the people we helped that were less fortunate, just a simple thank you.
The store that I worked out freely made sandwiches for homeless people, at least the ones who really needed them.
We had our regulars: Bullwinkle, John, and an old man who carried his guitar with him ever where he went.
People would stare and walk away when they saw any of them come in, but they didn't know them like we did. The customers didn't know their stories. In a word, the "bums" were friends.
John was the only one I didn't know very well. He never stayed long enough to hold a conversation. I think a lot of it had to do with the way people were afraid of him. A lot of customers would just sit there and stare at him. When he came in I would simply make his usual tuna sandwich and then wait for his normal smile and "Thank you" as he walked out the door. I had always wondered about him, why was he were he was at such a young age? It wasn't until my junior year I got to hear his story, as heart breaking as it was.