Marvin In Santa Monica

          I lived in Santa Monica, California for about four years. During that time I attempted to live under the radar of the problems LA is known for. I lived very close to my work so I did not have to drive. I lived very close to the ocean so I did not have to worry about the heat or smog. One of the challenges of Santa Monica however is the number of homeless people who live there.

          It took me about two weeks of doing the Santa Monica stroll to realize that I had to do something for someone. In that I was a Waldorf teacher at the time, giving away money to everyone in need was not a possibility. At that point I decided to find one person to help and to help them on a regular basis.

          That one person turned out to be Marvin. He was a black ex-Marine and he sat for hours at a time at the bus stop at 3^rd and Wilshire. We spoke at bit at first and more over time, and each payday I would find him and give him twenty dollars.

          From what I could tell he was not a drug addict. He was always in the same kind of mood. His inner state reminded me of a walk on the beach at sunrise when the marine layer dominates and it is damp and too cold. I would imagine that Marvin had been through remarkable things while a serving as a Marine, yet he never spoke about it. The part of me that loves psychology judged him to be suffering from PTSD. Whatever had happened to him as a Marine, now he was content just sitting and watching life go by.

          The last time I saw Marvin he was with another man who seemed to be attempting to help him get back to work. Marvin seemed awkward and a bit clumsy as his “sponsor” barked out the drills for re entering the real world. I really don’t know if my donations helped him or hurt him. The only thing I know for sure is that today, four years later, I still miss him and think about his well-being.