The Faces Of The Samaritan Center

Tom - The Rest of the Story

We were waiting in the parking lot of a diner that morning. My stomach was churning with anticipation and apprehension. This could be the day. I watched as Tom crossed the four lane highway with caution, thumbs in the straps of his backpack, which literally was bursting at the seams with every possession he had in the world. I waved...

David

Today, in my mess of a car, amidst water bottles and receipts and an annoying dog toy that squeaks every time I hit a pot hole, I found a lonely post-it-note. It marked an appointment from November of 2013, almost a year ago to the day. And a name. David.

I’m sure that all those who have grieved find these silly mementos that,...

Andy

For as long as I can remember, there has been a group of middle aged men that occupy the same corner table at the Samaritan Center for breakfast each morning. They argue ferociously about the NBA, laugh loudly and sip on their coffee for almost an hour, before they rise and go about their day. One of their brethren is Andy, who is a...

Marcus

As the afternoon sun grows softer on Montgomery Street, we bid our guests farewell for the day. We mop the floors and shut off the lights and I think of our guests that are returning home full-bellied.

It’s an easy thing to marvel, as the green door closes, the many places that our guests call home. I think of Danny, opening...

Dan Wade

We don’t often think of the stories we will leave behind, the legacy we will create.  Years roll by, seasons change and we live- until we don’t.

And others, in our wake, are left to feed off of memories and create meaning of a man’s life.

I can do no justice for my friend, Gordon Daniel Wade, so please forgive me as I...

Tom

Octavia Butler once wrote “Kindness eases change.  Love quiets fear.”  It is a refrain that comes to mind often as the crowd of guests gathers at the Samaritan Center.  For many of our guests, we are a place of stability and acceptance in an otherwise chaotic existence, filled with the uncertainties and vulnerabilities of...

Jack

I’ve had occasion lately to wonder about kitchen tables.  My grandfather’s kitchen table recently travelled from Philadelphia to live in my kitchen here in Syracuse.  There are ghosts that linger around the laminate wood piece: of meals and of memories and of people, greatly loved, that are long gone.  They dine with me, even as I sit...

Bernie

It was a bustling dinner crowd.  I was chatting with a grateful mother of four, after snagging her daughter, who was in that stage where she loved to discard her shoes and sprint away in a fit of giggles.  I deposited the still laughing girl back on the pavement of our alleyway, where her older brothers, full-bellied and groggy,...