Under the Bridge

A Guest Post By Fred Prout

I just got a series of emails from the CEO of a mid sized organization I belong to.He was, no better way to put it, begging for money. Seems like he thinks some of the rank and file of this organization might be running a little short of cash. He suggests that rather than their having to give up their membership or, get a reduction, we should all kick in a few bucks to help them out. With all due respect, Mr. CEO, BULL CRAP. I’d like you to read a few words and then pass them on where they might do some good.

Everyone in your organization was thoroughly vetted to make sure we could afford the ever rising membership fees. We couldn’t get in without proving we had the means to do so. Sure we all feel the pinch from time to time. But never in a life altering way. So why the pitch for a few extra shekels? Every time there’s a need for improvements we reach for our wallets. New this. New that. Food costs. Entertainment costs. Activity costs. The newest toys. We ante up. Because we can!

Tell you what. We know that your salary is in the tens of millions of dollars. If the rank and file were to donate one percent of our income, could we assume that you would do the same? I’m sure those unfortunate few who are feeling a pinch would appreciate it.

I’m prompted to write this after driving by our local Walmart in a pouring rainstorm. Thirty eight degrees outside and there by the side of the road is a homemade tent of tarpaulins. A homeless man and his dog live there. Now, people don’t freeze to death on the streets where I live. I’m sure they do in Chicago, Detroit and Cleveland. Imagine if you will, your entire estate is in a twenty inch long shopping cart. Not quite as long as your golf bag. And it’s thirty eight degrees. And raining nonstop. And your hygienic facility is a spot under the bridge.

I got home and did a little research. Thanks Boggle. This is America. The US of A. Land of opportunity. Must be because we now have eight hundred and one billionaires. And seven hundred seventy one thousand eight hundred homeless people. The year of our lord two thousand twenty four saw an eighteen percent increase in homeless people. I wrote the words. I can’t comprehend them. Let’s try old faithful Arabic numerals. 771,800 homeless people in this country. On the streets. Under the bridge. Think about that for a minute.

Most of us have feelings about the problem. And we are all wrong. Because there is no one reason for this phenomenon . Sure, we used to call them bums. Dopers. Dropouts. Nut jobs and crazies. Some are. It’s convenient for us to think that’s true. We can ignore them more easily.

But some used to be people . People who put on the uniform of their country and saw and did things that broke them. Some lost jobs, homes and hope. All at once. Some would probably be unable to tell you what happened. Looking into the dark collective psyche of society I question if a large percentage of us would not care.

Mr. CEO I do not begrudge you your massive salary and perks. I’m certain you worked hard and earned it. Good for you. But, maybe, just maybe, the next time you decide to beg for money you can look to a higher income group than us. I honestly get a little frosty when the ultra rich ask me to help support them. And maybe for a better cause. Maybe your peers would be interested in kicking in some of the money they spend on Starbucks or scotch and trying to help their fellow human beings. Maybe you could be the one to get something started. Think about it. With all your resources and connections you might just start off by saving one person. Then another. Then…who knows. What do you think? Ask me for the second donation. Have the letter start: Dear Fred, my entire executive team has committed to starting Houses for Heroes…