Keith Deisner

Sobriety

August 7th, 2009

A week ago I dropped off some information at a church downtown.  Centenary Church at 55 Plaza Square is an urban church community committed to serving the poor, specifically those who are homeless.  Their non profit arm ”The Bridge” runs a day center that reaches thousands of people a year.

While at Centenary, I ran into staff members who are alumni of Peter & Paul Community Services’ transitional housing programs.  One in particular I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Michael, helps out with security and guest services for the day center, I asked him how he was doing and about his job. 

He told me that he was doing really well, that he liked the job and that in one week he would celebrate 1 year of sobriety.  He was carefull to point out that this included any and all substances that didn’t belong in his body.  He no sooner brought it up when he quickly changed the subject, but not before saying, “But I don’t want to jinx myself, so that part of the conversation needs to be over.”  And with that we talked Cardinals.

A week later Michael celebrated his milestone with friends and former case managers.  He was all smiles.  So were folks around here.

Homeless Soccer & Hope in the Nation’s Capital

July 10th, 2008

“What is Past is Prologue”
William Shakespeare

We owe the location of our nation’s capital to George Washington himself.  The trick was to choose a site that would be considered neutral to both northern and southern interests. 

Washington’s answer? A 10-mile square that allowed for Pierre Charles L’Enfant to work his grand avenue, Versailles-like magic along the Potomac. Too bad for George though, the President’s House or White House, today the oldest surviving Federal structure in America, was not available until 1800 when John and Abigail Adams moved in.

If you’ve never visited Washington D.C., you owe it to yourself, your family and friends.  This city, or to be more precise, district, belongs to you.  It always has, with the exception of a few months during the war of 1812 when the British got a little carried away.

Washington D.C. is perhaps the single greatest symbol of freedom in the world today.  It represents the great American experiment, which is far from over.  A visit to the National Archives Museum underscores this point.  A commanding female statue keeping vigil over the contents therein reminds passers-by on Pennsylvania Avenue that, “what is past is prologue.” 

That quote recently caught the eye of Daniel.  Daniel is homeless and plays street soccer for the St. Louis Roadies, our own hometown homeless soccer team.  A few weeks ago, Daniel and 5 of his teammates traveled to D.C. to compete in the US Homeless Cup.  “What does that quote mean exactly?” he asked.  The question went on to become a theme for his teammates during the tournament.  For the purposes of a travel column, a unique look at Washington D.C. through the eyes of a homeless soccer team is worth the read.

The US Homeless Cup is a tournament that allows for cities across America to showcase the soccer talent of those who grapple with freedom on a daily basis.  Men and women living on the streets or in shelters across the country are invited to compete on behalf of their city.  Tournament organizers then choose from a hundred or so athletes to represent the nation on the global stage.  The Homeless World Cup, as it’s known, is approximately 5 years old.  This year’s US National Team will travel to Melbourne, Australia in December to compete against 60 plus nations from around the world.

With limited sponsorship funds, the St. Louis homeless soccer team, aka, St. Louis Roadies, had to be very careful on per diem type items.  Lodging, for example, was our first challenge. 

Frugal travelers will be happy to know that it is possible to stay in the heart of the capital for $20 per person per night.  That is, if you’re more interested in experiencing D.C. than remembering the quality of the towels from your hotel.   Very modest accommodations can be found at Luther Place Memorial Church Youth Hostel (Thomas Circle, 1220 Vermont Ave. NW) located in the heart of D.C., thankfully within walking distance of Ben’s Chili Bowl (1213 U Street). 

One of our players uncovered Luther Place church records from the 19th century in our room.  Pastor John George Butler served 50 years in the district in the 1800’s.  His career was marked by service to the poor and counsel to Presidents and dignitaries.  In fact, he served as chaplain to one of Lincoln’s assassins, assuring him of divine compassion even to the gallows. 

With one day to sightsee before the tournament began, we were short on time.  Our first stop was to pay a visit to Senator “Kit” Bond.  Room 247 in the Russell Senate Building is set aside on Thursday mornings for Missouri visitors to D.C. to meet with the Senator.  He was kind to listen as players described what it is like to be homeless in St. Louis and asked for his support of the many programs offered by Peter & Paul Community Services (www.ppcsinc.org).   

Senatorial visit complete and with “All Day” metro passes secured, group consensus brought us to the Declaration of Independence and the Lincoln Memorial.  Like so many of the world’s great cities, there is only so much you can do in a given timeframe.  An entire summer is needed for a visitor to take in what is offered at the Smithsonian alone.  We were content to focus on just a few of D.C.’s landmarks.

After sightseeing, players and coaches connected rather interesting dots on the day.  A theme surfaced and carried the conversation prior to lights out.  The men reflected, for example, on why they were in D.C. and what the soccer tournament meant for each of them.  The common denominator for each was freedom.  From the reverence they observed in the National Archives for a document that set the world on fire with hope, to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial where Dr. King delivered his famous speech, each player realized he was fighting to be free of all those things that up to this point had dominated him, leaving him enslaved to homelessness.  For some this meant alcohol, for others, drugs.  Still others sited mental illness, anger and low self-esteem as their particular chains. 

The St. Louis Roadies went on to finish 3rd in the beginner bracket of the US Homeless Cup.   They managed 4 points in all and won their last game against Richmond.  The Roadies received the “Fair Play” trophy, an honor set aside for the team that best captured the spirit of the tournament.  And finally, our goalie was chosen from over 1 hundred participants as an alternate for the National Team.

While people-watching on the Mall one evening, the Roadies welcomed President George Bush back to the White House via Marine One.  We were also lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the new President of Iraq, Jalal Talabani as his 1 mile motorcade exited from a nearby restaurant on 15th and Pennsylvania Ave.  More signs of freedom.

Our weekend went on to include shopping at Union Station, cruising Georgetown at night, taking in the sunset from the roof of the Kennedy Center and driving along the George Washington Memorial Parkway on route for a group photo outside the National’s ballpark.  Aside from the shopping, all free, all fun.

Homeless World Cup organizers estimate that 1/3 of those who participate in the tournament do not return to homelessness.  No one is quite sure why.  It may have something to do with the dynamic of belonging.  It could be linked to the dignity that comes from knowing that others are depending on you.  Perhaps a renewed sense of

pride and self-esteem is at play or the feeling of being connected to a bigger picture?  Whatever the reason, the men who make up the St. Louis Roadies are some of the greatest people you’ll ever meet.   Whether they will belong to the fortunate 1/3 who leave homelessness behind as a result of playing soccer remains to be seen.  Until then you can bet on one thing. 

Like all of us, their past is prologue and their future holds the promise of hope.

Surrounded!

August 23rd, 2007

I can remember parties with my dad’s side of the family as a kid in the seventies and early eighties.  As the youngest of his litter, my dad missed out on World War II.

His brothers did not.

Parties on my dad’s side followed what became a predictable routine.  The women would prepare the meal while the men sat and smoked and imbibed various products from Anheuser-Busch.

At some point during the party, which inevitably would last into the late hours, the topic of the war would come up. 

And there I would sit…spellbound, listening to their stories and occcasionally interrupting to ask a question. I learned early on about the attack on Pearl harbour, our response at Midway, MacArthur’s long promised return to the Phillipines and my uncles’ involvement to make that dream a reality at Laihi, Rommel outfoxing the British in North Africa, the Allies landing at Normandy, the bombing of London, the battle for Anzio and, of course, the Sullivan Brothers.  In fact, I still hear the anger in my uncle Bill’s voice as he retold the story of the latter.

I can still see them all…laughing and carrying on.  Everyone happy to be together, reminiscing about old friends while Bacchus smiled on.

I remember having the thought as I grew older that I should write their stories down.  I feared they’d be lost forever. But I never did.  “The road to hell…” and all that I suppose. Slowly, but with all of the certainty that time has in its store, my uncles passed away one by one.

By 1999 my dad’s last surviving brother died. To date, I have interviewed several WWII vets, their wives and others who lived during that time.

In some cases, I’ve approached perfect strangers and inquired about their age and involvement in the war.  Most are quite happy to share their story.  In fact, their families are often thankful for the effort.

“I had no idea my dad lived through so much” is a response I hear or “She never talked about the war until this interview.”

Stories are essential to life’s experience.  Mosaics, tapestries, whatever image you prefer to use to describe them, stories surround us on all sides.  They entertain, educate, celebrate and sometimes call us to action.

Working at PPCS allows our staff an opportunity to capture stories that might otherwise have been lost.

They are stories of those who are homeless and often invisible to the community. 

Like all of us, these are folks who have been wounded in one way or another.  Their stories are of genuine heroic effort, accomplishments, set backs, honesty, dishonesty, addiction, illness, redemption, unimaginable rejection and hope.

So who knows?

Maybe by sharing some of their stories, PPCS can snare some unsuspecting bystanders who just might take an interest in the issue, come to appreciate its complexities and get involved.

Once thing is for certain, their stories deserve our attention.