I was leaving Portland for good. There would be no more Portland stories. I put the word out that I wanted to assemble the Old Crow Book Club one final time at 9:30 in the morning for a last breakfast. We would meet at the park by the creek where I had launched the book in 2023. That event unfolded as the greatest literary gig of my life and I didn't sell a single book!
Naturally I arrived early. The rig was loaded and Elmer snoozed in the back seat. After the gathering, I was on the road to my new home in Coos Bay with no need to return to Portland anytime soon.
I carried donuts and a pint of Old Crow to the picnic table and sat down. Behind me the creek flowed to the river. It barely made a sound. My mind returned to all the moments and collaborations with Mark and other members of the club. We'd had our heyday but that was long gone. They had become my friends, unique collaborators, and I would miss them.
Three out of the five members of the club were now living in Safe Rest Villages. Perhaps they could transition into permanent housing. Mark also needed serious and prolonged help applying for SSI disability, but as I'd told him, I wouldn't be around to assist.
Two friends showed up to say goodbye to me and document the last meeting of the club.
Mark walked into the park a few minutes late, but smiling. He told me he'd moved to a new Safe Rest Village and it took almost two hours on the bus with multiple transfers but here he was.
The others didn't make: crossed wires, but two of them phoned me later and said they were sorry they didn't make it.
Mark pulled a small watercolor painting from his backpack. His daughter had painted a crow in a forest He told us, “She did it because she respected the book and wanted to honor me.”
We caught up on each other's lives. Mark had a new phone and I gave him my card and told him to text me right away. I wanted to stay in contact.
But I knew he probably wouldn't.
I offered Mark a donut and unscrewed the cap of the Old Crow. This was it. I held up the bottle and...couldn't do it. I had a long drive and an empty stomach.
“It's yours Mark,” I said. He thanked me, we said our goodbyes, I walked away, and wondered how my friend would fair.
What a journey we had taken together over the last 4 ½ years. One of the more fascinating of my life.
Would I undertake a similar journey with another homeless man or woman or crew in Coos Bay? Or could the journey be something altogether different and it would transpire as something totally unimaginable as of this writing.
Best wishes on the new chapter. Great town, Coos Bay. We stay at the Itty Bitty Motel when visiting the North Bend/Coos Bay area. I really enjoyed reading the Old Crow Book Club and enjoyed reading about your friend's ups and downs. I've been there myself on the downside
Regards
Scott W.