Ray of Hope
Tags: Hope, Homelessness, Disadvantages, Its Time For Change

In the autumn of 2008, a friend posted on Facebook that his wife had been making food and drinks for a homeless man who was living on a bench; on the festival gardens in my hometown Radcliffe. One night I decided to go along to see if he was there and he was, I introduced myself, his name was Ray. I gave him a cig (still can’t believe I use to smoke, eurgh!) and we sat and chatted for a while. I could tell he’d had a difficult life; it was etched both in the deep lines on his face and hands which were ingrained with dirt and nicotine stained. His clothes were soiled and tattered, his beard matted. Despite looking so much older than his 58 years, he was interesting and quirky as he regaled stories about what a cracking footballer he’d been back in his day and how he could’ve played for his beloved Bury FC if it weren’t for an injury. Following on from that first meeting I visited him regularly; on my way to work I’d take him toast and a thermos of coffee with 4 sugars and most evenings I called with a hot ready meal and another brew. He was always pleased to see me; we’d sit and chat for ages and an unlikely friendship developed. Ray would happily accept food and ciggies but never money; which I found odd. Passers by would leave a few coins at the side of him on his bench and days later and it would still be there untouched.

Homelessness has always been close to my heart; I think I’ve got my mum to thank for my compassionate nature. As a single parent in the 70’s she had little to no money to spare; yet if she saw someone homeless or in need, she would happily give them whatever she had, I guess it rubbed off on me. Therefore, I knew she’d jump on board in my plight to help Ray. I introduced her to him and he won her heart too and soon she was popping round to see him at lunchtime with something to eat. It was always painful leaving him there, knowing we were going home to our warm homes with three spare bedrooms between us. Every fibre of my being wanted to invite him to come and stay and give him a home but I knew as a single woman that was a ludicrous idea. I didn’t really know much about housing and benefits back then, so I intended to find him a cheap flat and use my savings to pay for it; I had no long term plan and crowdfunding hadn’t been invented. I spoke to him about it and he said “What with a sofa and everything?” I assured him he’d have a sofa and he seemed happy with that.

Around bonfire night some kids started throwing fireworks at him so he had to move from the gardens for his own safety, he moved just around the corner on some waste ground at the bottom of a residential street. Local people had been going and taking him cakes, pies, tobacco, a tent, sleeping bag, hats and scarfs, gloves etc. I went to see him one evening and he wasn’t there, so I appealed on Facebook as he’d become somewhat of a local celebrity by then, someone replied and said that they’ve seen him go off in an ambulance. I phoned around local hospitals and eventually found him in Oldham, after explaining to staff who I was they informed me he’d had partial amputations to both feet due to frostbite but that he was doing well. After expressing my desire to help they put me in touch John Carr from the Bethesda church in Bury (now known as the Metro church). I spoke at length with John and it transpired he had been supporting Ray for a number of years via the church as Ray use to sleep in the doorway. It turned out John had recently secured a flat for Ray in sheltered accommodation but because he’d been on the streets for 17 years he was struggling to integrate back into a normal home life. Subsequently he kept returning to the street life he’d known for so long; I guess it’s where he felt most comfortable and safe ironically. I believe that’s why Ray wouldn’t accept money off people because he didn’t need money. He wasn’t a drinker or drug user, that lifestyle had long gone and he’d survived on the streets clean and sober for many years. I often wondered how he got through those cold, lonely nights without any substances to numb the pain and keep out the cold. I’m sober over 4 years now but I still drank a lot back then and giving up seemed an impossibility to me. I questioned as to why he’d given it up, he said his GP had told him if he didn’t quit the drink he’d not got long left to live, so he quit. It puzzled me that he gave up booze to save his life, yet refused to live comfortably in a house. After getting to know him he confided that he had a nasty streak on the drink and that he’d hurt so many members of his family and that he regretted it, especially around his children. Ray had two daughters, one had died from a drug overdose when she was 26 and he was estranged from the other, I could clearly see that it pained him. It occurred to me that perhaps living on the streets unnecessarily was a form of self-harm and retribution because he felt so guilty about his past wrongdoings. I didn’t really care about his past; I took him as I found him and decided that it was of no relevance to me or our friendship, he needed a friend and some support and I was happy to provide it.

On discharge from hospital Ray went back to his sheltered accommodation and John and I finally managed to get him settled in to the flat. Thankfully he didn’t have much choice but to stay there initially due to his incapacitated feet. Between John and I, we checked in on him most days. I’d take him fish and chips on a Friday and a plated-up roast dinner courtesy of my mum and dad most Sundays, they often came to see him too. Two other guys from the church Michael and Steve started calling on Ray; they’d take him out one day a week for lunch and to the church on a Wednesday and Sunday. Michael used to come and play draughts, dominoes and cards with Ray and he loved it. However, self-care was a different story; it was a continuous battle and I had to bribe him with chocolate and baccy in exchange for him having a wash, shave and letting me cut his hair. I gave him a phone and we managed to get in touch with his older sister, she was in her eighties and glad to be back in touch with her brother and happy that he was in a house and had good people around him. He also made contact with his twin brother.

Just before Christmas a friend gave me a lovely tree for him, I got him some baubles and lights and put them up and it looked really cosy. I invited him for Christmas dinner, but he didn’t want to come, so me my mum and dad went around with a three-course dinner (plus another for Boxing Day) a cracker and some presents. We sat with him while he ate it and he really enjoyed it and that was a Christmas Day tradition that spanned 10 years. Ray was a real character and a chatterbox and he was in his element chatting away to my dad about football, what he didn’t know about Bury F.C. wasn’t worth knowing.

For a while he was settled and even started chatting with his neighbours however, there was a spell where he reverted back to his old familiar self-harm tactic; it was snowing and bitterly cold and he went sitting on a bench nearby for days on end, refusing point blank to come in. I can’t remember how I eventually got him in, I think it was when I spotted frostbite on his nose and said he’d end up in a wheelchair if he lost the rest of his feet. Incidentally they were in a shocking state as the nurse hadn’t managed to catch him in for weeks. I took a look and did as best I could to clean them up before the GP came, it wasn’t pleasant I can tell you; they were rotten and infected. I honestly don’t know how I did it but for some reason you can often do things for others when needed.

Ray was such a comical fella and very mischievous. Once his feet had healed, he took great delight in shuffling down the corridors ringing bells and scuttling off, he found it hilarious but his neighbours weren’t impressed. Needless to say it wasn’t long before he got turfed out and was relocated to another flat which was genuinely awful; a real dark and dingy hovel of a place and he was so miserable there and his mental health rapidly declined. Fortunately, John managed to get him some support from Brothers of Charity in Bury and they took charge of his medication, food, shopping, cleaning etc. They managed to get him moved to a lovely little bungalow, it had bright and pleasant fresh decor and lovely furnishings. The support workers took a real shine to him and he loved them going around, I knew he was ok so didn’t call round as often; he was the happiest I’d ever seen him.

Ray sadly passed away in the September of 2018 just before his 69th birthday, I offered to arrange his funeral with his family being in St Helens and it was both a pleasure and a privilege to do so. It was a lovely service at the Metro church which had supported Ray so much, sadly John Carr had passed away a couple of years previously but his wife Olive was there as were Ray’s sister, niece and great niece. Pastor Paul, Steve and I paid tribute to the loveable rogue we’d come to know and love and the Ray of Hope he represented; that anyone can turn their life around and find some sort of happiness before their time comes to leave this earth.

Rest in peace my friend, I miss you dearly and I’ll see you on the other side.

By Juliet Eastham