Old Crow Book Club Reunion (Part 1)

Party supplies for the reunion of the Old Crow Book Club schedule for Saturday noon at a park near a creek:

Four Domino's pizzas

Case of Octoberfest beer

Case of Sprite

Cooler of ice

Card table

Copies of the The Old Crow Book Club

Halloween-themed paper plates and napkins

Felt Jack O Lanterns and sharpies (for crafting and haikus)

Pumpkin and knife

Copies of Call of the Wild (next book for the club)

Three plastic bags of fine pipe tobacco.

We hadn't convened as a group since May, 2023 and a few of the club members had not fared so well since that meeting. I hadn't followed up all that well after the book came out.

What a beautiful fall day, a football day! When I arrived at the park, leaves were falling and the creek gurgled along to the Willamette River. A few women wearing waders were walking in the creek with nets and I recognized from my days as a watershed council coordinator they were investigating macro invertebrate life to assess the health of the creek.

Keith, newest member of the club and an elderly homeless man I didn't recognize sat at a picnic table. Keith had a guitar slung around his neck and reminded me of that preposterous Western Johnny Guitar. Keith introduced the man as Rick. He had just met him a half an hour earlier at the convenience store and invited him along. Rick was game. He heard there might be pizza.

I started unloading supplies from the car and carrying them to the table. My mood soared even though I knew there was a distinct possibility the party would be a bust.

One never knows who will show up if you throw a party and invite mostly homeless people by word of mouth.

A younger homeless man materialized as I set up the party. He was a little off and climbed a tree and talked to it. He then evened out molehills. He then started giving away sticky buds of cannabis. Then he left.

Two of my friends showed up: a photographer working on an incredible project about homeless people and the important objects they carry and cherish and a filmmaker working on a multi media project about homelessness in Oregon. So many artists are trying to tell stories about this crisis of American humanity. It doesn't pay anything, in dollars that is. It rewards in other ways I never thought possible when I started writing on the subject. The last meeting of the book club to celebrate the launch of the book was one of the most spiritually uplifting experiences of my life. It also gave me hope.

A couple charter members showed up. It was good to see them and we greeted each other like good friends. Mark, the co founder of the club, wasn't among the members. I'd seen him the day before and he assured me he was coming. He'd never missed a deadline for me and that's one of the reasons we were able to get him into housing after so many frustrating attempts. He had followed through.

But, I wasn't going to wait around for Mark so I opened the pizza boxes and told the gang to go for it. And that they did!