Below is the text of a letter reporting on a meeting I witnessed
between the mayor of Philadelphia and an elderly blind man that was homeless
and lived behind the Public Ledger Building near the Liberty Bell.
March 9, 1989
Charlene Flaherty
Philadelphia Committee for the Homeless
802 N. Broad Street
Philadelphia Pa. 19130
Dear Charlene:
When you spoke of Charley Hall, Goode, and the cigars, as a legend from
some long time ago, I felt like an old, old man. Years go by rapidly.
The version you have of the meeting is true. I looked up my reports
about it and add my memories:
That night was special because the Mayor came with me. Goode had
been out on the streets before with us when he was Managing Director.
This night, January 9, 1985 was the first time he came as Mayor.
It was before MOVE and he was enjoying a high degree of public approval
and support. When Dan Stone and Rich Melaragni asked me to take the
Mayor on a thirty minute tour of the streets, I refused, imagining a large
entourage of aides and media people, but they told me the Mayor wanted
to do this quietly. He, Goode, got in the city van with me and Cheryl
Kramer; his driver and his bodyguard followed the van in his sedan.
No reporters, no cameras, no large parade of officials. I was impressed
that he wanted only to meet and speak with and understand the people that
were on the streets. The 30 minute tour lasted from 7:30 pm till
near midnight. Goode got excited when he saw how some folks were
willing to accept his offer of shelter. Don't ask me how anyone can
tell when Wilson Goode gets excited but for sure Charley Hall had him actually
laughing - not a belly laugh mind, you - but more than a tight lipped smile.
We saw a score of people that night - some have since died or disappeared,
John Morgan, Danny Ruggiano, Billi Rouff. Billy Whitehead now
lives at Bethesda-Broad Street. Hammerman is still "the Hammer";
Mrs. Weisman is at Women of Hope. Hall and Mr. Price at Riverview;
Little Eddie is now working as an electrician at Philadelphia Naval Yard,
Joe Walsh is still around. Tommy Godfrey died last year.
This visitation by Goode had consequences. Two days later he announced
and directed that the City would initiate a multi disciplined effort to
rescue people from the streets with or without their consent. That
was the beginning of what is now Code Outreach/Code Blue or whatever we
call the coordinated effort of various city departments to shelter the
homeless during severe weather. Danny Ruggiano never let me
forget how I fouled things up by bringing Mayor Goode around - " Ever since
you brought him here, Joe, I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep. Cops
and social people waking me up trying to make me go into the shelter'.
But about the cigars!
"Stickman - I got someone here who wants to meet you. Mr. Hall
this is Mayor Wilson Goode." Charley Stickman Hall, Mr. James Price
and Little Eddie were standing on the grate adjacent to the south wall
of the Public Ledger Building, just west of 6th on Sansom. They had
a simple cardboard fort collecting the warm air. That year it was
called "Box City", about 25-30 men congregated in the area of the Curtis
building and the portico of the Public Ledger building. Within a
couple of weeks of this particular night, the security people and the police
and, I suppose, other forces, extinguished this little collection of people
and cardboard.
"Goodie, really Joe, the Mayor?" Blind Charley Hall shook Goode's
hand, felt his arm and shoulder and asked the Mayor to speak. "Damn
that really is Goodie, you're really the Mayor." I think Goode was
taken by Hall, not just because he was blind and old, they just seemed
to hit it off. Charley gave Goode much free advice over the next
half hour, while Goode listened and tried to convince Charley of the value
of a warm bed. "Wait a minute, Goodie, did you ever sleep at
the Drop In?"
Stone and Melaragni from Adult services drove up on this scene.
The Mayor in his cashmere overcoat on the vent with Hall, Price and Little
Eddie. Me and Goode's bodyguard standing around freezing.
Eventually the deal got struck. Hall was chewing on the
stump of a cigar and Goode said, "If I get you some cigars would you consider
coming in?" Charley countered with, "Well now are we talking about
a box of cigars?" It was all done pretty jokingly; my own sense
was that Charley had decided to accept Goode's offer
( which was placement at Riverview in the morning after just this night
at the drop in ). I don't remember clearly now but I think Hall asked
that Price and Eddie also get to go to Riverview. This was a bit
unusual, they were younger and at that time - Riverview was only for older
people. In any case all three did go to live at Riverview.
Later this night, after seeing many others, we were at the Drop In Center.
The men were settled in; Goode said goodnight to Charley, wished
him well, and hoped all would be well at Riverview. I don't remember
anything more being said about the cigars.
The next morning, I'm with these guys at the Drop In Center getting
ready to have them driven up to Riverview, when a police sergeant comes
in. He's looking for a man named Charles Hall.
"This is me standing right here", admits Charley. The cop comes
over to him, gives him a bag, "Mayor Goode said to give this to Charles
Hall."
One full box of Phillies Blunt Cigars. Charley opened it up, "A
whole damn box", gave us each a couple. I still have one that he
gave me.
That evening on the streets with Goode was the initiation of another
interesting street story. I wrote about Goode's contact with Tommy
Godfrey and his bottle of wine ( 'Tommy Dunphy' in my thesis - I changed
everyone's names in the paper that I wrote ). The best version of
the encounter between Goode and Godfrey and the bottle came from Clyde
Campbell. I saw Clyde in the week following this mayoral street
tour and he told me in his best up-country Virginia accent, "Joe,
you're not going to believe this but three guys told me and they swear
it's all true . . . Do you know who stole a bottle of wine from Tommy Godfrey!?
I know that small gestures, small promises kept, twice told stories,
brief encounters of the human kind on crackling cold nights do not solve
or settle the intractable persistent injustices we see, the suffering we
witness on our streets. I used to think even that they were a distraction,
an obfuscation of the serious issues that we needed/need to grapple with.
I argued against the elaboration of the 'sandwich and blanket services'
of PCH, Trevors Campaign, et al; they don;t deal with the causes
. . . ,they confirm the condition . . . , they don't change anything
. . . , they enable dissipation to continue . . . , etc. etc.
I was wrong. I was seeing such acts, such gestures as the end of
something, rather than it's beginnings. Sometimes I'm impatient,
after twenty years of this work to be still at the beginnings.
There are things about all these outreach efforts of ours that I continue
to question, criticize, worry about, object to. But it's good.
Good for us to remind us of the sadness, remind us that ours are first
steps; good for the men and women that we encounter to remind them in the
face of such contrary evidence that we do care. All this by way of
confirming that the box of cigars were real, a small promise kept, the
beginning of a promise that continues to need keeping.
Keep the faith,
Joe Ferry
Bethesda Project
JPF/jmd
