Day 30:
I've been on the road one month. It's hard to believe I've been able to sustain my self for this long. I think I'm gonna make it. As long as I remain selfish that is.
So, I was going to do a recap of all the states I've been to on day thirty but I've got to spend this time addressing something that happened today.
A lot has happened today actually. I'll try my best to keep it short though.
I thought that the highlight of my day might have been when I walked around Love Park in Philly. The ledges of Love are practically as historic as all the other stuff in the city. I mean, I grew up watching all the best skaters in the world do runs around this park! The tricks done into the fountain have been the most legendary! From the first ollies into it to Cole's onslaught during the last days of skating it that include a switch frontside flip, backside flip, backside 360, and then Andrew Reynolds frontside flip, and Jeremy Wray's front 360, and a handful of other tricks done by less than a handful of skateboarders both willing and able to even attempt tricks into the fountain, I've jealously and joyfully watched them over the years.
Even though I've never been there before I almost felt nostalgia as I ran my hand over the, oh, so smooth waxed ledges. But that was only the beginning and not what has stuck out in my heart today.
My tour around the Eastern State Penitentiary was much more enlightening than I thought it would be. The fearsome gargoyles ominously guarding the front gate to the prison were designed purposefully to strike fear into those entering the walls in order to encourage true penance for the crimes committed. The place is a "stable ruin" I believe is what they said. It is falling apart and they aren't doing anything to stop it other than keeping the main pathways safe for visitors to walk through.
The whole castle like building was designed with great symbolism in mind. The doorways to each cell were purposefully designed too short so the inmates had to bow their heads in order to enter while a single hole in the ceiling of each shone the light of the sun into the center of there cells, obviously meant to symbolize the light of Christ.
The building is nearly 200 years old and astonishingly it was only closed in the 70's. And Capone himself spent eight months there, in a cell with oriental rugs, fine furniture, and a radio no less! This was before he went to Alcatraz.
The whole experience was haunting, enlightening, and educational as we were told about the issues facing today's prisons while contrasting them with how prisons operated hundreds of years ago in the early States.
I could go on but time is limited. Suffice it to say it was a remarkable place to visit but still not what I remember most from today.
Moving on, you'd think then, that even the highlight might have been when I ate my first real Philly Cheesesteak. But it wasn't. It actually didn't taste that good. Why you ask? Well, it didn't have to do with the quality of it or the hands that prepared it. And, what I'm about to explain isn't really a highlight for me, but more so a call to repentance. It struck me deep and I had to eat my Cheesesteak with a heavy heart.
There are a lot of homeless people in Philadelphia, really in any large city. And you kind of get used to turning them down when they ask for money. It breaks my heart a little but I really don't know what can be done about the matter. Giving out money doesn't help you or them. It just perpetuates a very difficult situation.
That said, I was paying for my cheesesteak when a worn looking older man approached me. I knew he was about to ask me for a handout. I put my hand out and said "sorry man."
He said, "my name ain't 'sorry man', it's Walt."
I said that I was sorry again and began to pay for my food. He looked at me frustrated and began to rebuke me. He said the wold is a beautiful place and that there was nothing sorry about him or any of God's creations. He commenced to tell me that he wasn't looking for money but just a bite to eat. At this point though he wouldn't have accepted anything from me, and he in reverse would have been pitying me had I attempted to give him my cheesesteak. He walked away with a stern warning that I better not ever say "sorry" again.
I sat down on a nearby bench and emptily ate my sandwich. Banners hung on ever lamp post welcoming Pope Francis who is visiting the city in a few days. They portrayed him smiling with words saying things like, "have faith to be truly happy" and "love those around you". Many of the homeless though, were preparing and had their own signs addressing and soliciting even the Pope for handouts citing love and charity scriptures.
I walked around the city for awhile and people were everywhere sleeping on benches, huddled up against walls with tins out in front of them. Most of them looked on the verge of death they looked so miserable.
What is a Christian supposed to do? After my encounter with Walt I was almost brought to tears in thoughtful contemplation of what I should have done, how I should have acted. What would Christ do? I can't say that a person shouldn't just give everything he has to everyone else because that is what Christ did, didn't he? Aren't we supposed to love one another unconditionally with all our hearts?
I have to sleep now but, I'd ask, how is a person supposed to justify turning a blind eye toward those unfortunate souls on the streets. It doesn't matter if they want money for drugs or alcohol, they might just want a bite to eat. And even those who do abuse substances, are they sub human? Are they not our neighbors as well? What is to be done?
I was excited to see Love Park today. And it was cool, but I feel like I failed in the respects concerning what it actually is to love, which has burdened me, and it's made my trip to Philadelphia somewhat hollow.