Jesus falls for the second time.
Under the I-5 viaduct at Jackson and 9th.
FolkLife Festival weekend: African dancing, sea chanteys, Chinese knot-tying and jambalaya; and Michele brought me a news clipping about a homeless woman found dead outside a few days ago.
Next meeting, our women's group decided to hold vigil. Saturday I went to tell Tent City, ask them for support. "Monday a group of women from WHEEL will hold a silent vigil at the Memorial Wall, dressed in black, for Debra Cashio."
A gasp came from behind me. I thought, "Oh God, what a way to find out!"
Fred, the man who had known Debbie, came to our vigil and handed out flyers. All of the reporters who showed up wanted to talk to him. They asked if any of the rest of us had known her. I said no here was a group of homeless and formerly homeless people memorializing Debbie, calling the rest of the city to care also, whether you knew her personally or not. No one in our city should die alone and abandoned.
Two days after the vigil, posters went up around town asking for information on the death of Debra Cashio. They included a color photo. It shocked me.
I'm lousy with names. But I remembered her face.
Go on to Station 8
Return to Stations of the Cross: the Spiritual Geography of Homeless People in Seattle