Jerry, Third Avenue North and North 27th Street. "I fought for this country. The VA put me in this situation because they wouldn't give me medical at the right time."
John, Central Avenue and 24th Street West. (He and Trish are a couple. They use the same sign on different days.) "I have a home, but I'm disabled. I get $711 in Social Security every month. My rent is $550 a month."
Kevin, 24th Street West and Marketplace Lane. "If you miss three paychecks, you'll end up where I'm at."
I suppose I should explain why I decided to take photographs of panhandlers.
But first let me explain what the collection of photos is not. It is not, for starters, an attempt to weigh in on the whole question of whether you should give money to panhandlers.
Ed Kemmick
I started taking these photos months ago, before the downtown forum at which business owners and some residents of the downtown vented about all the problems they were having with transients.
I think there is an obvious difference between the people whose photos I took and the people everyone was complaining about downtown.
The panhandlers who camp out at intersections and hold signs do not — at least in my experience — come close to violating the city’s ban on “aggressive” panhandling. They just stand or sit with their signs, and the most you ever hear them say is “thanks” if you give them any money.
They are also big on waving and flashing a peace sign at passing motorists. Generally speaking, they are no more aggressive or threatening than the pizza guy playing the cardboard guitar at Fifth and Grand.
The sidewalk panhandlers are different, often drunk or stoned or both, sometimes threatening, often in groups, and they don’t usually flash a peace sign if you fail to give them money.
Nor were my encounters with panhandlers an attempt to find that elusive, fabled figure of urban legend — the well-to-do panhandler. Over my many years as a reporter, I’m sure I’ve heard hundreds of stories about panhandlers who live in nice houses on the West End, panhandlers who leave their corners at the end of the day and drive off in newer-model SUVs.
I’ve heard this from city officials, cops, regular Joes and all sorts of other people, so often that I suppose there must at one time have been one or two people who actually did make a regular bundle off begging.
But I find it impossible to believe that this is a regular phenomenon. Unless large numbers of unknown benefactors are driving around dispensing 10s and 20s, it’s hard to believe that scrounging for a handful of change or a buck or two adds up to anything terribly substantial, even after an eight-hour day.
My plan was simply to photograph random panhandlers and to ask them just two questions: What is your first name? And, what one thing would you tell all these people driving by if you could?
Their responses, which I inserted in the captions, might surprise you. There is little self-pity, some gratitude and a bit of advice. The most surprising response: “The lord has blessed me. I am whole.”
Most of the signs were a bit generic, so I think we should acknowledge James’ cleverness, if not his spelling: “Too Ugly Too Prostitute Too Honest Too Steal.”
I was also a bit surprised that no one objected to having a photo taken. Most of them wanted to know what I was up to, but after I attempted to explain what Last Best News was, all of them consented to be photographed.
I hope to keep doing this, photographing panhandlers whenever I see them. And if I ever happen to stumble across the filthy rich panhandler living in a mansion and driving a Lexus, I promise I’ll write a story.
