Mr. Speaker, it is often said one of the best things we can do in this world is to take a tragedy and use it as a catalyst to do something positive. The April 5th death of a 64-year-old homeless man, Bill Walsh, in the woods of…
Mr. Speaker, it is often said one of the best things we can do in this world is to take a tragedy and use it as a catalyst to do something positive. The April 5th death of a 64-year-old homeless man, Bill Walsh, in the woods of southeastern Connecticut has become a rallying cry for the homeless. I hope that the death of Bill Walsh will be turned into something positive.
As a Vietnam veteran I have long been involved in addressing the dilemma of homelessness. Vietnam divided our nation and many soldiers returned from Southeast Asia with a variety of troubles. On far too many occasions their troubles led them to the streets and to the ranks of the homeless. We know that many of the homeless suffer from addictions and mental problems. We will never be able to help them secure a home and until their lifestyle issues are addressed.
In Connecticut we are taking action. A coalition of business leaders, social service agencies and government officials have produced the Southeastern Connecticut Ten Year Plan To End Homelessness. The three pronged attack seeks to establish a safety net by identifying social services available to the homeless and finding more effective ways to deliver them. Supportive housing is an essential component--supportive housing helps address issues of heart and head while providing a place to live. In supportive housing complexes individuals find companionship, security and a staff that will help them address issues such as substance abuse, education and other barriers that prevent people from participating as productive members of society. The third part of the program is to help the homeless find employment.
I attended Bill Walsh's funeral and those who knew him described him as ``a gentle soul'', ``just like us'', and a ``sweet man who never bothered anybody.'' No doubt we also would all agree that a 64-year-old ``gentle soul'' should not be living in the woods.
Many families are one paycheck away from being homeless. They are our neighbors and our friends. Those who are already experiencing life on the street or in the shelter are in need of support. A society that is dedicated to helping others help themselves will take the tragedy of Bill Walsh and use it as motivation to address homelessness. I believe ours is such a society.
In attendance at Mr. Walsh's funeral was the Rev. Emmett Jarrett, of St. Francis House, in New London. He made some insightful and compassionate remarks about Bill Walsh. I ask by unanimous consent that his meditation be included with my statement for the Record.
Seeing The Invisible: A Meditation on Luke 16:19-25
(By Fr. Emmett Jarrett, TSSF)
The story you have just heard--the story of Lazarus, the
poor beggar, and the rich man--is one of the stories Jesus
told to call people to live not in selfish isolation but as
sisters and brothers. It's also a story that Martin Luther
King, Jr., the great American patriot, preached on many
occasions, including the last Sunday sermon he ever preached,
a few days before he was assassinated in April, 1968. King
said of this story that it was not about Jesus condemning
wealth, or the rich. ``There is nothing in that parable,''
King said, ``that said [the rich man] went to hell because he
was rich. . . . [He] didn't go to hell because he was rich;
[he] didn't realize that his wealth was his opportunity . . .
to bridge the gulf that separated him from his brother,
Lazarus. [He] went to hell because he passed Lazarus by every
day and he never really saw him. He went to hell because he
allowed his brother to become invisible.''
Our country remembers Dr. King because of his dream that
America would some day fulfill its promise and become a land
of freedom and equality for all. But King was not just a
great patriot, he was not just a great civil rights leader.
He was also a leader in the movement to end the war in
Vietnam. He was a leader in the struggle to end poverty in
our country. When he preached his last sermon at the
Washington National Cathedral in 1968 he was on his way to
Memphis, Tenn., to support sanitation workers in a strike for
decent wages. He was preparing to lead a national march on
Washington from the rural South, from Appalachia, from the
ghettos of Northern cities, a march of white people as well
as black people, a ``poor people's march.'' He was working to
make the invisible people in our country visible. He was
working for brotherhood and sisterhood, for what he called
``the beloved community.''
We are gathered here today to remember an invisible
brother, Bill Walsh, who died in
the woods a few days after the New London winter emergency
shelter closed. Bill died in the woods--technically in
Waterford--but he was a New London resident. His last
residence had been the shelter at St. James Church around the
corner, but his last proper home was an apartment in the
Mohican just down State Street from here. But Bill was
invisible, and so he died, without the minimal attention
any human being requires and is entitled to. Like Lazarus,
the poor beggar in Jesus' parable, Bill was our brother,
and most of us didn't see him.
So we gather here today in the First Congregational Church
of New London, the church where Bill worshipped, and where he
ate breakfast many mornings. Because the beloved community
includes not only like-minded people who worship together,
but people who break bread together, people who eat together.
As the prophet Isaiah says, the life God asks of his people,
of us, is a practical life of friendship and service. God
requires of us that we ``share our bread with the hungry, and
bring the homeless poor into our house'' (Isa. 58:7). It is
appropriate, then, that we gather this morning and remember
Bill, and pray for him and for ourselves.
But we will not be the beloved community if we do not
accept our responsibility for Bill's neglect, and for his
death. The great rabbi Abraham Heschel said that ``in a
democracy, some are guilty, but all are responsible.'' All of
us, as a community, as the people of the City of New London,
are responsible when some of our brothers and sisters, some
of our neighbors made in the image of God, have no place to
lay their head. Thomas Jefferson said about slavery in
America, ``I tremble for my country when I reflect that God
is just.'' Well, friends, I tremble for our country today.
There are more than three million homeless people in the
richest nation in the world. We are that rich man, who went
to hell not because he was rich but because he allowed his
brother Lazarus to become invisible. We have an opportunity
to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and shelter the
homeless. It's no use blaming other towns and cities. God
will judge them. It is myself and my city that I tremble for.
It is for New London that I will be judged.
So I ask you this morning, as we remember Bill Walsh, to
join the struggle in our city to make him and others like him
visible. I invite you this morning to see the homeless poor,
many of whom are present in this house of worship today. Look
around you. See your neighbors. Some of your neighbors have
homes to go to tonight. Some don't. But all of us are
neighbors. All of us are brothers and sisters to Bill Walsh
and to one another. Let us resolve today, in his memory, to
make our city a ``city on a hill,'' to which everyone can
look for inspiration, to make our country ``a light to the
nations,'' that cares for its neediest citizens. We have to
see each other to do that. As the great labor organizer
Mother Jones said, ``we've got to mourn the dead, but fight
like hell for the living.'' We can't bring Bill Walsh back
from the dead. He is with Lazarus, the poor beggar that Jesus
talked about, ``in Abraham's bosom.'' But we can see the
invisible poor, and shelter the homeless and needy, and not
find ourselves under judgment for our failure to see.
Now let us remember Bill. But let us get up tomorrow
morning and start to work together to create a homeless
hospitality center in New London that will be a model for the
rest of our region and our nation. Let us see the invisible
poor, and live together with all our sisters and brothers in
the beloved community the God of justice invites us to
become. Then Bill will be like one who has risen from the
dead and brought us to the promised land.