Cowboy Pete

He goes by the name Cowboy Pete. He tells me this as I ask if I might sit down. “Free country” he replies without looking up. It is 2020 and so I sit down about 8 feet away on the concrete. I have seen him for a few weeks now, leaning up against the brick wall between Michaels and Best Buy. He doesn’t panhandle, there is no upturned hat, no sign of him interacting with shoppers who pass by.

He lifts his cowboy hat & tips it toward me, saying in a thick Texas twang “It’s because of the hat. Folks out here just started calling me Cowboy Pete” I ask him how he came to be here, asked if he was living on the street. “Well, it’s about as good a place as any, I’d say. Interesting people watching”

I ask if he has a place to stay, if he needs anything, and he starts talking. He tells me his drinking got out of control, and that’s when the wife threw him out. Sometimes he sleeps in the woods behind the shopping center. There had been a camp of sorts up behind the Tractor Supply, but the police were called and the police “Runned em all off “. He says police like PO _ LEESE. He says he don’t bother nobody and the police know it. Sometimes they stop by and ask how he’s doing, and he reminds them that he ain’t never ask nobody for nothin….but sometimes people drop money near him and say “God Bless”.

He goes on to tell me he tried to go back with his wife. She was staying in a house up in Princeton, but she had her kids there and another man and it got to be so bad with all the yelling and fighting, that he just took off. Sometimes his wife will come by and pick him up, take hime to get seomething to eat or drop him off somewhere else. At this point I offer him the small shopping bag. In it are snacks, packs of tuna salad and crackers, a fruit cup, some peanut butter crackers and a couple of bottles of water. I’ve also included a plastic baggie full of bandaids, aspirin, immodium, and a washcloth. Somewhere I read a long time ago that diarrhea is common amongst the homeless, who might dig through the trash for food.

He pulls the bag towards him and looks inside. “Awww…you didn’t have to do that !” he says, as if I were a coworker offering him a cupcake on his birthday.

I carry “Homeless bags” in my car all the time. Each contains the same as I gave to Pete, and I add a set of pads and tampons if the person I meet is female. In the summer, I add cooling cloths…the kind you wet & wrap around your neck. In the winter , I add those little packets of handwarners and a scarf I crocheted.

The scary thing is we live in a very affluent community. In years past, you would see homeless people in downtown Dallas, but never this far north. Now I am beginning to see them under the highway overpass, next to the Kroger, and walking down busy streets with shopping carts. I came across a young couple huddled in sleeping bags last week outside Academy Sports. I fear that it will get worse, so much worse, as people are evicted when goverment assistance shuts down, and landlords stop receiving the rent.

Since I’ve met Pete, I bring him a bag whenever I see him. His wife got him a cheap cell phone, but he lost the charger, so I got him a new one at the dollar store. I made him a pillow to sit on or put behind his back, and once again, he reacted by saying ” Well , now you didn’t have to go and do that !”

I can’t help them all, but I can do my part, and I smile as I get back into my car, while Pete puts the pillow beneath him and then gives me a thumbs up and a big wave.