Street Corner Preacher

Many people we meet at Allelon remind me of a song by Amos Lee, Street Corner Preacher

When I walked through the doors, all I could focus on were my throbbing forearms screaming from the wall I just pretended to rock climbing. It didn't take long before the people and circumstances in our house quieted my selfish whining.

Before I could think another thought, I was instructed to rummage through my phone in search of a local pastor's number who is known for working with homeless, hurting, people. Through a series of phone calls, we were able to leave a message.

In the midst of all this, Kendrick needed a ride to Dollar General to pick up some dog food. On went my shirt, and out the door we marched.

When we got back, our new friend Jo Jo had hopped in a much coveted shower. His paper sack with protruding bottle neck (Steel Reserve) took its own much needed rest near the couch. Wes and Moo Moo had hustled over to Walmart to pick up a new set of clothes. (Wes doesn't know this yet, but he is going to fill in his part of the story here. Thanks Wes!) There was a slightly awkward gap when Jo Jo finished his shower when Wes and Moo Moo had not yet returned with the wardrobe. So in nothing but a towel, Jo Jo started hollering about his bottle, excessively thanking his hosts, and cheering about how sweet a shower was.

While Wes warmed up some left over sloppy joes (irony at its best), Josh filtered through the pile of our cleanest clothes to find Jo Jo a fresh shirt to wear. By now Jo Jo had plopped into the recliner and the housemates started munching. But not Jo Jo.

Despite our efforts to get Jo Jo to eat, he instead heeded our fervent requests to receive the shirts we had placed beside him. With tears and a quivering voice he indeed was at loss for words, but only for a moment as he traded his inhibition for a pulpit where the sermon began. Stories of other homeless friends, associates, enemies, preachers, 5-0, among others. That gritty smile gleaned reciprocity from our trim faces. With a concerted effort from all of us, Moo Moo included, Jo Jo eventually whipped up his plate off the floor where he'd forgotten about it and tackled the mound of beans, chips, and sloppy joe piled high on a plastic neon orange dish fit for royalty (thanks JB), or at least I think that might have been what the Prince of Peace would've eaten from.


Between his admitted 19 public intoxication charges, tussles with other homeless characters, shaming encounters with pastors, and (I imagine along the way) upsetting spats with ignorant passer-bys and highway drivers, pieces of Jo Jo have been cut away. But this night, Joe received his dignity back. "Nobody lis'ns to me. Y'know. I try ta tell'em, but day juss don't lis'n to me." Little did he know, he couldn't have asked for a more captive audience. Our eyes and ears were fixed to his every story, sermon, and request - though he'd tell you "[he] didn't ask for none of this." Which I suppose he didn't technically verbally inquire. But when Wes started playing that music, with Jo Jo as the only audience, you could see the unprotected self-worth make a liberating leap past the hard leathery exterior.

Enter The Gambler. What an appropriate song and title for the situation, for Jo Jo had indeed learned the hard way how to know when to hold 'em, fold 'em, when to walk away and when (and from who) to run. But he'd learned how to take a hit, too. I don't know what made him decide to come back to meet Josh that day but it was divine, indeed.

As for me, one of the most entertaining parts of the evening was Jo Jo's introduction of Trigger, his imaginary horse during Wes' rendition of "You Are My Sunshine". But perhaps the most noteworthy remains the hug he gave when he left It is forever impressed into my memory. Even as I come back to edit this parable, my heart pounds a deeper thump. Full of genuine appreciation, connection, and unabashed affection, we started with a simple obligatory embrace. But to my relief, that was not enough for him. His only hidden requirement for the extent of the evening was a willingness to receive his warm, shirt-clutching hug.


Below I've included some other quotes and highlighted a couple other moments from the evening with our new friend:

In response to Moo Moo's comment regarding walking:
"See these old legs I got, these old man legs - they walked 93 miles from Oklahoma to Snyder, TX. ... I walked it. Ain't nobody gonna pick you up on the highway. I slept beside railroad tracks, all dang parks. If I can walk my 52 year old ass, shee-it. you can walk too." (often followed by a rhetorical "you hear me?")

Taking a breath from preaching to take a swig:
"Old Jo Jo might drink some beer, but he can do some preachin' too. For real boy, shee-it. Let me tell you, bubba."

In conversation with Josh about some other homeless men:
"I think I know him... I know who you talking about. He's a good friend of mine. I think so. What he in for, PI? You get 4 hours 'n yer out."

Talking about Kenny Rogers -
"He married that girl... I'm'nna tell you right quick, quick now. [snaps fingers] What was her name..?" [staring into the ceiling as if the answer were printed there in tiny letters at a funny angle]
Then for some added flavor, when "I Walk the Line" twanged across those strings, Jo Jo didn't hesitate to take lead on vocals; that old boy belted it with the best of them.