2 Street; Part 2. Rubbing Elbows with the Regulars. (2008-2009)
So...Young.
Jerome Lionel Flemmings AKA Young.
I've always been a sucker for a good story. Growing up, I'd often decide to like someone based off the strength of their stories and how well they told them.
As Jackson Ward gentrification went further east and north, it pushed a lot of the neighborhood's homeless population into this 2 block radius from Broad to Clay and 1st and 2nd streets. It was maybe 10-15 "regulars" that hung out in an empty lot by the bus stop. I started stopping to shoot the shit on my way to work and home each day, giving whaddups and pounds and all that.
There was a this older deaf dude Young that took a liking to me. He was 56 at the time, which is ancient in homeless years. He had implant hearing aids and very much needed to read your lips while speaking to understand, but he did well enough provided he was sober enough to listen. By degrees over the weeks, we got to somewhat know each other in passing with small talk.
One morning I walked out to my car and my passenger-side window was completely open. Not cracked open at the top or halfway down, but just open. I'd got out my car the day before and forgot to roll my window up. Young was leaning back against my car watching me come down the street. I have to admit I thought someone broke into it at first.
"You can't leave your window open like that on this block, Baby Boy." He said.
"Oh shit! I left it OPEN?!"
"Yeah. I stood here all night and made sure no one took anything out."
"You did what?! Holy shit Young, you didn't have to do that, thank you so much."
We dapped up and I slipped him a 20. It was all I had on me at the time. Sure as shit, everything in my car was accounted for.
After that, we were about as tight as you can get far as passing acquaintances go. We may've even been friends for a point in time.
We talked a lot. He told me about how he used to work at the Marriot and just decided one day he'd rather drink than work, so that's what he did. Sometimes he and some of his homeless friends would gather around my stoop and I'd drink with em, listen to em tell stories. I found out one of the more prominent homeless people up around VCU way that we used to call Grady, was actually known as Cuckoo, and how he'd died some years back.
Young telling me about the horse police pinning him up against the wall with their horses for standing too close to the entrance of 5 guys after someone offered to go in and buy him a burger.
Young tripping out the first time he heard they had a gizmo that would not allow a car to start if you blew above a certain blood alcohol limit lol.
One time, I came out to my car and Young pointed at me and said "They almost got you Baby Boy!" and proceeded to tell me how the parking meter reader at come by and marked my tired with a blue mark, they did that to tell how long cars had been parked there. If any with a blue mark was still there in the same place when they came back, that the car had been parked there too long. Young and slid up and scrubbed the mark off my tire for me lol. I hit him with another 20 for that.
I mentioned off-hand one week that my birthday was coming up on the 15th. At some point mid-morning on the 15th, I stepped outside to go hit the corner store and I hear Young shouting for my attention. I turned around and he's walking up the street with a paper bag in his hands. He wished me a happy birthday and said he bought me a 40 for my birthday and had Choe give him a paper cup so we could split it. We sat down on the stoop and he proceeded to pour me out half the 40 into a cup, give it me, and we cheered for my birthday.
13 years on, and that is still one of my most memorable birthdays. It's an odd feeling having someone who literally has nothing think to buy you a beer on your birthday and sit there celebrating with you. People say "What'd you do for your 25th birtday?!" and I say "My homeless friend Young bought me a 40 and we split it." Because that's all I did for my birthday that year.
One night, Young was having a hard time hearing me and I yelled "Is your hearing aid working?" And he said the battery died. So I said "fuck that, let's walk up to CVS and I'll buy you one." So we walk up Broad to the CVS (Walgreens? Memory fades lol, the drug store at Broad and Belvidere). We walk in and he goes right to the batteries (which are legit right in front of the register) and I follow him. I no sooner had "Which battery do you need?" out of my mouth when he grabs a package and starts opening it right there in the store!
I'm like "woah woah woah don't do that" but same time I didn't wanna bring more attention to either one of us, so I just walk away and pretend like I'm thirsty as a motherfucker looking at drinks. I wait a good minute, circle back around and he's on his way out the door. I buy my coke or whatever it was and walk outside and I'm like "YOUNG. DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN, YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME AN ACCOMPLICE TO A SHOPLIFTING. I WAS GOING TO BUY IT FOR YOU!" And he is super nonchalant like I'm tripping and he's like "I didn't want you spending your money on that Baby Boy."
I got to know a good handful of the "regulars" that year. Boo-Red. John T. Dude who worked at Choe's, Joe. Boo had a serious heroin addiction. John T had something wrong with him mentally, the other homeless people said he was crazy and wouldn't tell him where they were squatting on any given night. Dude who worked at Choe's would tell me his aspirations to get back on his feet and how proud he was going to be to get his first apartment lease. He was going to take a picture of himself holding that apartment lease up. How much he respected Choe for giving him a chance to earn some money. That guy always called me "Young Man."
Those are the noteworthy stories about Young. OH. Just remembered one time he offered me fried chicken that came out his pocket lmao. The corner store would give away chicken wings at the end of the night and he just stuffed them in his pockets, pulled one out, and asked did I want one. Nah, I'm good homie, I appreciate you lol.
Anyway, so by the time my lease was up, I was done with 2nd street. Apartment was too small, Tropical Soul was too loud, and I was ready to move. I had moved up to Marshall by Kroger and I stopped running into Young as much after that.
Maybe 6-7 months afterwards, I happened to run into Young at the 7-11 on Grace and Harrison. I tapped him on his shoulder and he spun around, eyes got all wide, and he gave me a hug. Over the course of conversation, I came to realize that most of the "regulars" from the year before were now dead. Almost every last one of them.
Boo had died of a heroin overdose.
John T had died.
Joe had a relapse back into crack. I remember seeing him for the last time out on the street some months before I moved off 2nd while i was walking to my car to go to work, remember it being weird seeing him that early and asked how he was doing. I'll never forgot him holding his hand up and waving it back and forth to say "not too good" and that he was moving a little slow that morning. Then I never saw him again. He stopped showing up to Choe's and etc.
Young told me he started living under a bridge in Newtowne (Scott's Addition) and messing with someone's girlfriend, so that someone ran up and beat dude's head in with a pipe while he slept.
Killed him right there.
Sorta had me shook how many people had died within a year. Put into perspective how real shit can get and makes it easier to count your own blessings, even if you don't yet have many blessings to count.
I gave Young a 20 for the last time, hugged him, and we never crossed paths again.
Some years later, I went on public records trying to find him or a death notice or anything like that. It appears sometime in 2011 is when he stopped getting picked up for Drunk in Publics and Disturbing the Peace and etc, so I assume he died sometime in 2011, around 60 years old.
RIP Young. You were a real one.
Jerome Lionel Flemmings AKA Young.
I've always been a sucker for a good story. Growing up, I'd often decide to like someone based off the strength of their stories and how well they told them.
As Jackson Ward gentrification went further east and north, it pushed a lot of the neighborhood's homeless population into this 2 block radius from Broad to Clay and 1st and 2nd streets. It was maybe 10-15 "regulars" that hung out in an empty lot by the bus stop. I started stopping to shoot the shit on my way to work and home each day, giving whaddups and pounds and all that.
There was a this older deaf dude Young that took a liking to me. He was 56 at the time, which is ancient in homeless years. He had implant hearing aids and very much needed to read your lips while speaking to understand, but he did well enough provided he was sober enough to listen. By degrees over the weeks, we got to somewhat know each other in passing with small talk.
One morning I walked out to my car and my passenger-side window was completely open. Not cracked open at the top or halfway down, but just open. I'd got out my car the day before and forgot to roll my window up. Young was leaning back against my car watching me come down the street. I have to admit I thought someone broke into it at first.
"You can't leave your window open like that on this block, Baby Boy." He said.
"Oh shit! I left it OPEN?!"
"Yeah. I stood here all night and made sure no one took anything out."
"You did what?! Holy shit Young, you didn't have to do that, thank you so much."
We dapped up and I slipped him a 20. It was all I had on me at the time. Sure as shit, everything in my car was accounted for.
After that, we were about as tight as you can get far as passing acquaintances go. We may've even been friends for a point in time.
We talked a lot. He told me about how he used to work at the Marriot and just decided one day he'd rather drink than work, so that's what he did. Sometimes he and some of his homeless friends would gather around my stoop and I'd drink with em, listen to em tell stories. I found out one of the more prominent homeless people up around VCU way that we used to call Grady, was actually known as Cuckoo, and how he'd died some years back.
Young telling me about the horse police pinning him up against the wall with their horses for standing too close to the entrance of 5 guys after someone offered to go in and buy him a burger.
Young tripping out the first time he heard they had a gizmo that would not allow a car to start if you blew above a certain blood alcohol limit lol.
One time, I came out to my car and Young pointed at me and said "They almost got you Baby Boy!" and proceeded to tell me how the parking meter reader at come by and marked my tired with a blue mark, they did that to tell how long cars had been parked there. If any with a blue mark was still there in the same place when they came back, that the car had been parked there too long. Young and slid up and scrubbed the mark off my tire for me lol. I hit him with another 20 for that.
I mentioned off-hand one week that my birthday was coming up on the 15th. At some point mid-morning on the 15th, I stepped outside to go hit the corner store and I hear Young shouting for my attention. I turned around and he's walking up the street with a paper bag in his hands. He wished me a happy birthday and said he bought me a 40 for my birthday and had Choe give him a paper cup so we could split it. We sat down on the stoop and he proceeded to pour me out half the 40 into a cup, give it me, and we cheered for my birthday.
13 years on, and that is still one of my most memorable birthdays. It's an odd feeling having someone who literally has nothing think to buy you a beer on your birthday and sit there celebrating with you. People say "What'd you do for your 25th birtday?!" and I say "My homeless friend Young bought me a 40 and we split it." Because that's all I did for my birthday that year.
One night, Young was having a hard time hearing me and I yelled "Is your hearing aid working?" And he said the battery died. So I said "fuck that, let's walk up to CVS and I'll buy you one." So we walk up Broad to the CVS (Walgreens? Memory fades lol, the drug store at Broad and Belvidere). We walk in and he goes right to the batteries (which are legit right in front of the register) and I follow him. I no sooner had "Which battery do you need?" out of my mouth when he grabs a package and starts opening it right there in the store!
I'm like "woah woah woah don't do that" but same time I didn't wanna bring more attention to either one of us, so I just walk away and pretend like I'm thirsty as a motherfucker looking at drinks. I wait a good minute, circle back around and he's on his way out the door. I buy my coke or whatever it was and walk outside and I'm like "YOUNG. DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN, YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME AN ACCOMPLICE TO A SHOPLIFTING. I WAS GOING TO BUY IT FOR YOU!" And he is super nonchalant like I'm tripping and he's like "I didn't want you spending your money on that Baby Boy."
I got to know a good handful of the "regulars" that year. Boo-Red. John T. Dude who worked at Choe's, Joe. Boo had a serious heroin addiction. John T had something wrong with him mentally, the other homeless people said he was crazy and wouldn't tell him where they were squatting on any given night. Dude who worked at Choe's would tell me his aspirations to get back on his feet and how proud he was going to be to get his first apartment lease. He was going to take a picture of himself holding that apartment lease up. How much he respected Choe for giving him a chance to earn some money. That guy always called me "Young Man."
Those are the noteworthy stories about Young. OH. Just remembered one time he offered me fried chicken that came out his pocket lmao. The corner store would give away chicken wings at the end of the night and he just stuffed them in his pockets, pulled one out, and asked did I want one. Nah, I'm good homie, I appreciate you lol.
Anyway, so by the time my lease was up, I was done with 2nd street. Apartment was too small, Tropical Soul was too loud, and I was ready to move. I had moved up to Marshall by Kroger and I stopped running into Young as much after that.
Maybe 6-7 months afterwards, I happened to run into Young at the 7-11 on Grace and Harrison. I tapped him on his shoulder and he spun around, eyes got all wide, and he gave me a hug. Over the course of conversation, I came to realize that most of the "regulars" from the year before were now dead. Almost every last one of them.
Boo had died of a heroin overdose.
John T had died.
Joe had a relapse back into crack. I remember seeing him for the last time out on the street some months before I moved off 2nd while i was walking to my car to go to work, remember it being weird seeing him that early and asked how he was doing. I'll never forgot him holding his hand up and waving it back and forth to say "not too good" and that he was moving a little slow that morning. Then I never saw him again. He stopped showing up to Choe's and etc.
Young told me he started living under a bridge in Newtowne (Scott's Addition) and messing with someone's girlfriend, so that someone ran up and beat dude's head in with a pipe while he slept.
Killed him right there.
Sorta had me shook how many people had died within a year. Put into perspective how real shit can get and makes it easier to count your own blessings, even if you don't yet have many blessings to count.
I gave Young a 20 for the last time, hugged him, and we never crossed paths again.
Some years later, I went on public records trying to find him or a death notice or anything like that. It appears sometime in 2011 is when he stopped getting picked up for Drunk in Publics and Disturbing the Peace and etc, so I assume he died sometime in 2011, around 60 years old.
RIP Young. You were a real one.