In my post about The Last Battle by C. S. Lewis, I mentioned that I found the Narnia books in an apartment in New York City in which I lived while taking a year off from college.
Here's what happened.
My last year of high school and my first year of college were difficult times for me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I was really confused and in need of direction. During my freshman year of college I also fell in love and became engaged. But then she broke up with me.
After the breakup I was lost, adrift, and so I decided to take a leave of absence from college. I wasn't sure what I'd do, but then I remembered Father Bruce Ritter who had spoken at my high school about the Covenant House program he had begun in New York City to work with troubled and homeless youth. I'd been impressed, so I managed to track down his phone number and called him from Upstate New York where I lived. I asked if he needed help. For some reason, he invited me down.
I got on a bus and went to New York, not knowing the city and not knowing where I would stay or what exactly I would do. I had little money, and just the clothes and items in my backpack.
I found the headquarters of Covenant House, and spoke with Father Bruce. He finally agreed to "hire" me as a paid volunteer - a peer counselor - as I was only 19. My salary would be $50 a week and a place to live. I stayed at his place the first night, then was sent to an apartment on the Lower East Side (7th Street and Avenue D). The apartment consisted of three rooms: a front room, a kitchen, and a back room. I think it used to be an office used by Covenant House. The organization had by that time opened several group homes, but had retained a number of rent-controlled apartments in various buildings. This was one of them.
There was little furniture in the apartment. There was a small kitchen table and a couple of chairs. But there was also a box with keys to empty apartments rented by Covenant House in my building and the one next door. I explored those apartments, using the roof of my building to cross over to the adjacent building. I found more furniture, pots and pans, dishes, and so on, which I carried over the roof and down the stairs to my apartment. I also found some lumber and tools! I hauled the lumber back to my place and built a loft bed using the underside of it as a closet.
I worked at a couple of homes, then settled in a third. In that house, the staff worked four 10-hour shifts each week. On the days I worked I had all my meals at the home - helping with the cooking. I was also able to do my laundry in the house washer.
The teens in the home were an interesting mix. Some had been abandoned by family, some had gotten in trouble with the law. Some were trying to finish high school and get into college, some were faced with jail time. One of them who was with us while waiting trial got mad at me and threatened me, spraying on my apartment door "YOU'RE DEAD MOTHER F*****." He was immediately sent to a juvenile hall and was later convicted on manslaughter charges.
Although he did not manage any act of violence against me - other than my door - I was a victim at the hands of others. One day while walking around the neighborhood I was accosted by a group of boys who looked like middle schoolers. But they surrounded me, shoved me against a wall, and one held what looked like an ice pick against my chest. They demanded money. I laughed nervously and told them I was a social worker and had very little money. They got $.97 in change and my empty wallet. They left me unharmed, except for a slight wound on my chest that only required a band-aid. A week or so later my mother in Upstate New York contacted me and said my wallet had just arrived in the mail. Apparently someone had found it and mailed it to the address in it. I don't recall if I explained the circumstances under which I "lost" the wallet.
My duties varied - cooking, cleaning, helping the young men with school work, escorting them to appointments, talking with them. I even remember one young man who had given us a false name eventually admitting to me he was a runaway and giving me his real name. We were able to connect with his family in the Midwest and he went home. Another - one who had been abandoned by a mother who was an addict and father who was a jazz musician who simply disappeared - had dreams of attending the Air Force Academy. He was bright and hard-working; I hope he made it.
On my days off I fended for myself, and got to wander around in New York. I discovered a group working on creating a musical, and helped to write part of the first draft. I even tried to write a song for it. It was my first attempt at writing a song, and, to be honest, it was terrible! I later heard the musical actually got produced off-off-Broadway, but I have no idea if any of my contributions made it to the final script.
At the group I met a girl, and we dated for a while, She drew of sketch of me one night. Here's me at 19:.
The girl introduced me to her friends who were fans of Ayn Rand, and who were involved in an early version of the Libertarian Party in New York. To be honest, they were so selfish and self-centered they turned me off, as did the party and the writings of Rand.
I did find books that were more beneficial to me. The apartments had the already mentioned Narnia ones, and assorted novels and religious books. Supplementing those books with ones I bought at used bookstores I began reading works that helped me rediscover my faith. Among the works - in addition to the Narnia books -ere The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton, The Confessions of Saint Augustine, and Saint Francis of Assisi by G. K. Chesterton. In addition, several Franciscans were involved with Covenant House, and they inspired me.
I returned upstate after that year to enter the college seminary. I ultimately did not become a priest, but have been active in the Church since those days.
It was quite a year and quite an adventure. I look back and wonder how I had the courage - or foolishness - to do such a thing.
My poor parents!
Ah, youth.
Pax et bonum
