Joe was born and raised in Memphis, Tennessee. He has five or six brothers and five or six sisters, he said—growing up, family life was bustling and frenetic, but loving at the same time.
In his twenties, he married the love of his life and settled down with her in Memphis. They had four children: two sets of twins, all boys.
For nearly twenty years, things looked rosy for the family. Then:
“I cheated. I messed up.”
She found out, initiating the divorce process and prompting a tension that would inform his next decision.
“[My cousin] came home one night to visit. He told me, ‘Come on, come with me and my wife to move to Austin. You would like it, man. I mean, come stay with me and my wife for one week.’ I was supposed to stay for one week, but I got to Austin and I like it. I love Austin.”
He has been in Austin for about four years. During the first two years, he stayed with his cousin and wife. It was 2014 when her job in Austin moved to Houston, prompting the couple to move.
“He stayed here for about a couple of years, because of his wife’s job, and his wife’s job moved to Asiatown. She had to follow her job.”
They left him in Austin, but they still check up on him often, he said.
Meanwhile, he found himself a job and began working to support himself. He currently works as a night-shift dishwasher and cook at Banger’s Sausage House in central Austin.
“I go work at 5 o’clock PM, and I get home at like 3 o’clock, 4 o’clock. I got a good job. I make $10/hour.”
He said that he receives plenty of food—leftover hot dogs, French fries—at his job when he has work days. Otherwise, he frequents church-sponsored meals as his primary food source.
He spends his daytime (sleeping), lately, in an abandoned church.
“The church fell down, so I go there and make my pallet. The church is closed down, down on East Side, a big ol’ church. So I went back there and checked the knob on the back door, and the back door unlocked. So I sleep in there.”
The church, as far as outside spaces go, has been a safe place for him to rest. Before he discovered it, however, he mostly stayed in motels when he could afford it, and slept under bridges in leaner times.
He was staying at a motel four nights before I met him.
“[A man] was homeless, and I helped him out. I let him into my room. I wake up, my pants in the bathroom. I pick them up and there’s nothing in my pants. I had two IDs, my phone and everything. I lost my phone numbers, that I don’t know by heart; I had a piece of paper, with all of my phone numbers, in my wallet. He took my wallet so I don’t have no wallet anymore.”
IF HE LEFT MY WALLET, MY CELLULAR PHONE, I WOULD’VE BEEN ALRIGHT. BUT HE TOOK EVERYTHING.
Losing all his identification has made it dangerous for him to be out and about, he said; he could be held in suspicion for lacking ID. He also lost his bank card and all the cash he had stored in his wallet. Most troublesome, though, is the loss of his phones.
“I had two phones, I had a minute phone, and a compact. He got both of them.”
He said that without his phones, he can no longer contact his cousin in Houston, or his family back in Memphis.
“When I have my phone, I call my parents every week. Call my son, my wife, my brothers and sisters.”
(I lend him my phone to call his cousin and let him know he’s lost his phone.)
He’s very bitter about this theft, especially since he was only trying to show compassion to another man. He reflected that even if all his money had been taken, he could earn more money. But the paper with his phone numbers, his phones themselves, are harder to replace.
“If he left my wallet, my cellular phone, I would’ve been alright. But he took everything. He took all my change, my quarters, he took everything. He took my cigarette lighter, had a pocketknife I loaned him; he took everything. He leave me nothing. I’ve been hurting ever since.”
He stated vehemently throughout our conversation:
“I know who did it. Imma catch him. I forgot his name, but I know the face. I know who did it. I knew him, I let him into my room. Imma find him. I’m gonna catch him. He took my shit, man.”
However, near the end our our talk, he seemed to reconsider his stance.
“I’m thinking about putting it in God’s hands. The LORD. Thinking about it. Thinking about letting Him deal with it. Thinking about it. Imma thinking about putting it in the hands of God. Cause if I do it on my own, Imma actually get in trouble. I work too good.”
Meanwhile, he has visited the bank to cancel his card, and he’s made preliminary arrangements to procure new IDs. It’s just a matter of calming himself emotionally.
For the future, he’s starting over in terms of saving money. He wants to secure an apartment as soon as possible, he said, or at least a car to sleep in.
“Trying to get me an apartment. That’s why I’m saving my money. Imma get me one. I gotta get one. I can do it.”
Otherwise, he’s thinking about saving enough money to move back to Tennessee. That way, he can be closer again to family. He is currently in the legal process of divorcing his wife, he said, albeit unwillingly. He said this sincerely:
“I regret [cheating]. I miss her. I miss my wife. She’s my heart. She’s my pride and joy.”
Even if she lacks forgiveness, moving back to Tennessee would allow him to visit his children and four grandchildren, he said. In fact, he said he just came back two months ago from attending his 27-year-old son’s marriage. He talked about his sons with a distinct pride in his voice.
His only qualms about moving back for good?
“I don’t want to leave my job. I love my job. But I’m thinking about saving my money and moving back home. I don’t know yet. I’m thinking about it. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
Whatever he decides, I wish him best of luck.