Last weekend, I guided my class of students on a tour of the old Five Points, Tenement land, and South Street Seaport. This was my first time going to the Seaport since the super-storm and it was a shock. Walking among those empty, cobble stone streets, where the Titanic Memorial Lighthouse stands was comparable to walking through a graveyard of dearly beloved and dearly missed businesses. But not everything is gone and I strongly encourage anyone who is around the Seaport to go and support the businesses still standing, as they need your/our support.
While wandering around the Seaport, my mind fluttered through a hundred memories of laughter, training, evening strolls, freezing evenings and blazing hot summer days. This was where my parents took two of my really good friends, and their families and me to celebrate our graduation. This was where my friends and I spent several nights laughing, dining and enjoying life. This was where I would go to feel closest to my own Seaport back home.
College life was nuts. No, not like in the movies (or maybe more normal college experiences); there were no kegs, togas, frat or sorority parties involved in my college experience, but that does not mean that it was any less insane. One memory in particular comes to mind, rather, one adventure.
In my junior year of college, I was the Chair for my campus' Breast Cancer Awareness group, which was a part of an umbrella organization called Bridge the Gap. My colleagues and friends in the group, Julia, and Victoria had created this absolutely fantastic idea for fundraising and student engagement; a scavenger hunt. But not just any scavenger hunt, one that would cover a good portion of the Financial District and would lead to the Campus on Staten Island. It was a well planned, well advertised event. On the night before, we spent the evening baking cupcakes and decorating them in their pretty pink. We also made a ton of sandwiches for the participants, anticipating providing lunch for them. We did it all on an incredibly low budget (hoping to not spend a dime that would not be doubled in return) and we did it with a lot of laughter. We had a number of confirmations of people wanting to attend, all was looking good and then came the rain.
April's showers do not just bring May flowers - they also diminish eagerness to participate in outdoor activities. But I am not one to give up so easily.
"What are we going to do with all of this food?" Julia asked, her disappointment and frustration from all of the effort made and lost screaming through her softly spoken words.
"We're going to give it away," I said, my own frustrations and disappointments empowering me to do a bit of good.
"Give it away? To who?" Victoria asked, holding up the remaining tray of cupcakes. We had spent the morning at a table in the cafeteria, hoping to sell cupcakes to salvage at least some part of our fundraiser (and our prides). All that we ended up gaining was criticism for not selling coffee and a recipe for pasta from very enthusiastic conference participant that had nothing to do with us...I'm pretty sure he did not even buy a cupcake.
"This is New York," I declared, my sense of hope and determination ringing through, "There's bound to be someone hungry on the streets. Let's go find them and give them the sandwiches. They'll appreciate it. We'll still be able to do some good."
"But it's raining," Julia reminded.
"We have umbrellas," I insisted.
"But where are we going to find them?" Victoria asked.
Scooping up bags and bags of sandwiches and putting them into our rucksacks, I led the way out from the kitchen and to the hall toward the elevator. "We'll find them. We're do-gooders and we have a cause. We're going out. We're distributing sandwiches. Let's roll."
Sighing, but following, Julia said dryly, "Damn you and your California sunshine."
Thus began the journey. We decided to follow the trail of the scavenger hunt so that the clues that we had labored to produce would not go to waste. We cut out the sections where we thought the likelihood of us finding homeless people would be less. Weaving through the streets of Manhattan, on a cold, wet April day, loaded with sandwiches hoping to be given away, turned out to be a load of laughs. For one thing, it was a nuts adventure in general, for a second thing we could not find homeless people. None. Not one.
"Maybe under the bridge?" I said, thinking that the elevated FDR, the expressway on the East River, would be a reasonable place for people to seek refuge from the rain.
"What?" Victoria laughed, "Homeless people don't live under bridges. Trolls live under bridges!"
After the morning that we'd endured, I would have been more than happy to share sandwiches with trolls.
Indeed, she was right - we could not find anyone hungry or homeless under the bridge, there weren't even trolls. So we proceeded to the Sea Port. On the second floor of the Mall on the Pier, we sat at a round table that overlooked the river and the Brooklyn Bridge. We were hungry - and, conveniently enough, we had a feast in our satchels. While eating the peanut butter and jelly, and the ham & turkey sandwiches, I started to laugh uncontrollably about how we had not only set out to do one good deed and failed, but two. Our hearts were in the right place, but fate was just not having it that day. In retrospect, I realize now that it was a good lesson; even the best made plans are subject to the inevitability of unpredictability and fate. Adapting our plans that day, did in fact lead to one of the most beautiful adventures that year. We eventually found one homeless person and we gave to him a sandwich. We saw another, but by the time that we got out the sandwich, he disappeared So our journey continued.
We marched down to South Ferry and saw the toil of our ancestors.
We discovered Ireland.
We conquered a mountain.
I guess, looking back, we conquered a couple that day. In the end, here was our grand total:
Total of Cupcakes: two-dozen (most of which, we ended up eating)
Total of Sandwiches: thirty (at least half a dozen of which, we ended up eating)
Total number of people helped: 1
Grand total of participants: 0
Total time spent laughing: not calculable.
We helped at least one person to be fed that day, who otherwise may have gone without food. And that was indeed something to be proud of.
I sent out an email to the people who had donated or who had helped us to spread the word, telling, essentially the story of this blog. The best response was:
"Well, look at it this way; at least you got to enjoy a couple of cupcakes, no?" -Fred C.
I'm a big champion for the little things, and I could not agree more with that perspective.
The friendships I made that year were very inspiring, not just for this blog and life's reflections, but for one of my books. A couple of weeks ago I wrote a blog about "Golden Spiders;" several of the supporting characters within that book are based on the friends I made my junior year in college. On one evening, I read a scene of the book to this group of friends and they laughed uncontrollably because of how accurately their traits and habits had been captured on the page. The book was one of my favorites to write and it is one to which I look back frequently. Hopefully, when someday it is published, it will provide for you the same sort of warmth and humor as it did for my friends and me.
For those of you who celebrate it, Happy Easter!
For those of you who do not, may your weekend be just as joyous!
Your humble writer,
S. Faxon
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