Mike sat on the curb with elbows on his knees and head alert. He had short gray hair and a week-old beard. In a fashion-style that I completely related with, he wore oversize socks tucked into a pair of slides. Beside him lay a Bag of Grace, full of snacks and hygiene supplies, that was presumably distributed by the youth group at Church Under the Bridge that morning. He greeted me warmly with a firm and rugged handshake.

 

“So, do you go by Michael or Mike?”

“Guys normally call me Mike, and girls Michael. Honestly, I don’t care what you call me, as long as it’s not ‘late to dinner’!”

Mike values family above all else. He currently has a 4-year son, ‘John’, who lives with John’s mother. Due to disagreements, Mike left their home and is now “voluntarily homeless.” He considers his son his only family, and he loves him with a passion that I found both radical and admirable. Calling John his best friend, he told me he prays daily for him and wishes John to know just how much his dad loves him. He fears that John may feel like his dad abandoned him. Thankfully, John’s mother allows Mike to visit his son regularly, about once a week.

After learning about Mike’s background, it was unsurprising to hear about his deep desire for family. He was born in San Antonio to an Air Force-veteran-turned-alcoholic and his wife. Mike did not have fond memories of his biological dad. His mother soon divorced his dad, and they moved to rural Houston. His mother remarried, but the step-dad was very abusive — Mike had step-siblings but they never visited in fear of their dad. Throughout his childhood, Mike had neither a stable family nor a healthy family dynamic.

Mike told me that since “life at home was hell,” he felt like there must be a perfect world out there. He joined the Marines (and specifically not the Air Force, in order to spite his dad) in order to experience more of the world and perhaps find this Eden. It was not to be found. He was stationed in Somalia for four years in the ’90s during the country’s civil war. He’d known of the horrible violence and genocide occurring there and hoped to contribute to its end. Instead, he found himself assigned to counting and identifying bodies in a mass grave. Innocent people were being murdered mere miles away, and he wasn’t actively doing anything about it. Mike concluded at this point that the entire world was messed up.

Upon being released from duty, Mike became addicted to methamphetamine, using it every day for seven straight years. He said, “It [screwed] up my brain real good.” He was admitted to Austin State Hospital to deal with issues relating to his drug-usage, and since the day he was discharged, he has been in this city.

Mike loves to listen to music and run, thinking of it as a form of “therapy” or “medicine.” However, his phone was stolen earlier that week, taking away his music. Additionally, the only shoes with him are his slides and a pair of dress shoes. The rest of his wardrobe is back with his son’s mother, who refuses to pass along his belongings. He says he doesn’t worry about these things too much, though, since they’re just “material things.” He did note that finding size 13 shoes at the Salvation Army was tough, since restocked shelves were often quickly cleared and all the good items taken.

Mike has a spiritual background — he used to attend church as a kid, but mainly for the social aspect. (His home in Houston was so rural that a two-hour-long bus ride to church was one of the few ways to interact with many kids.) The morning I talked with him was his first time to Church Under the Bridge in about 10 years. He does believe in a single God but doesn’t like the concept of organized religion — he says it encourages division and conflict. Following from this, he doesn’t believe that Jesus is the Son of God (since that would tie him to Christianity). At the same time, when talking about his son, he said, “Prayer is one of the most powerful things I can do for him.”

 

Reflections on Mike →


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