I was writing on the Global Warming thread and got to thinking about an old lady we see here in Fairbanks regularly. This old man got teary eyed thinking about poor old Mary, sitting on the street corner. Cold but refusing help from strangers. Wearing her orange life vest, she never takes it off. She wonders the streets every day with her shopping cart filled with her worldly possessions.
I remember one day about three years ago I saw two punks messing with her on the street. By the time I could stop and get out others had stopped and were on their way to assist her as well. Those two punks got jacked up by about 15 citizens. They learned how hard the side of a store building was. They also learned "Keep your distance from Mary, and be nice to her". She was so sweet. After we turned the two punks loose with instructions to go and apologise, Mary gave them each a piece of candy from a box some one had given her.
Then I suddenly realized I had not seen her recently. Called the wife at work and asked if she had seen her. No Michelle had not seen her lately either. I got concerned and called down to my neighbors house. She works at the Fairbanks detox, and mental health center. I asked about Mary, if she was doing well, and had she gone to a shelter this year. "No Mary was found dead earlier this fall, sitting on her favorite street corner".
I remember when I first met Mary, 1971 she was a good looking young woman. Younger than my 23 years. Wearing her orange life vest, carrying a big bag, wondering the streets. Women would come up to her, hug her and slip a few dollers in her pocket. She approched us smiling and very friendly talking about all her friends around town. I proved my immaturity and lack of feeling for others when I said, "She's crazier than a loon, let's get away from her", and walked away laughing.
The next few years I would see her, but ignore the fact she was there. Then one day during the pipeline days, while walking downtown, I approached a corner and Mary came around the corner of a building. Looking up she seemed startled by my proximity, and she suddenly got scared and started screaming. Mary ran backwards into the street, trying to get away from me. People on the street wanted to know what I had done to her. Some men I thought were going to rough me up, thinking I had done something to her. Other people came to my defense saying "no Mary had just been scared for some unknown reason, that I had done nothing to her". I began to feel sorry for Mary and wondered if there was something that could be done for her. Apparently some man had abused Mary in some manner. And when she found herself in such close proximity to me she panicked.
After that I noticed Mary seldom allowed men to approach her, she even got violent with some men if they got too close. Women still would come up and give her a hug, and slip money into her pocket. She still wore her Orange life vest. I asked about her at the homeless shelter, and the soup kitchen, they always told me that she refused help. She seldom came to the kitchen to eat, and only came to the shelter when it got so cold she had to find warmth. I found out employees of the eating establishments in the down town area would let her in after hours and feed her while they cleaned up. Night clean-up crews would overlook the fact Mary was sleeping on the floor just inside the door. Anyway Mary survived on the street, the way she wanted to live, with her orange life vest. Till this last fall. Mary was not just a street person, Mary was a part of Fairbanks.