Unspecific

Smile

I drive to work each day the back way.  I don’t like traffic and while I only drive about a mile at best, I hate dealing with other drivers.  I pass by this overpass every day.  Every day I see Mr Wong.

I started noticing the same guy was standing in the same general area every day.  On a few days where I left before the sun came up, he was asleep with all these bags on the sidewalk. Every day I passed by he would smile and nod or wave.  I nodded back or waved and it put a smile on my face.  After a few months I stopped by and asked if I could take his picture.  I asked if he needed anything, offering cigarettes as I had seem him smoking one the day before.  He said that would be fine, and asked for menthols.

I stopped back by a few days later and asked if I could take his picture.  He was hesitant.  I promised I was not with the media and would not be using it in any derogatory manner.  He let me take about 3 shots.  I asked if he needed anything else.  He asked me for some orange juice.  I asked him his name, he said his name was Wong.  His English is rough, but better than some people I know or have to deal with.  I asked where he is was from.  He explained his family came over after the IndoAsian war, asking if I know the Vietnam war.  He is from Laos and had moved to east Dallas in 1980 with his family.  He had a home and a job, but things went wrong around 2000.  Now he lives under a bridge with all of his belongings on the sidewalk.  But everyday he gets up and walks.  I rarely see him sitting, and he always smiles and waves.

That night I had shown the first set of pictures to my father.  He asked why I did it.  I could not describe it exactly.  My father asked if he could share the photos with someone else.  I said ok, and he CCed me on the email.  My dad said “The purpose Lee took the pictures was to try and catch this personality he felt when he sees him. “  This made me think

I stopped by again a few days later with a half gallon of orange juice for him and asked if I could take another picture.  He agreed and I just asked him if he was ok or if needed anything else right then.    I started to tell him about my conversation with my father and his comments about why I wanted to take his photo.  I couldn’t answer the first day, but now I felt I understood.  This man has all his belongings on a sidewalk under a bridge.  He sleeps under cardboard and ratty blankets.  But he has not given up, every day he gets up and walks around, not content to sit still.  He smiles every time I ride by and waves. He didn’t ask for money, booze or anything bad.

If someone in his position can smile, why can’t I?