Gator
He was named Gaston, but apparently after wrestling an alligator early in life, and winning, he would be known as "Gator." He was a legend on the streets of Santa Barbara—before spending the final chapter in his life at an apartment at The Village with his wife. Today was his memorial service at Pershing Park.
One friend said today: "I've been with Gator through a lot. I've slept in trash cans with that guy."
A lot of people who don't have a roof over their head don't have a name on this planet. They are "the homeless." Homelessness is a problem. Homeless people are precious beyond measure. And they have names.
Some really kind folks like Jeff Shaffer and Jack and Ruth Wilson started sharing meals in the park 14 years ago. And in the process, they got to know Gator, and "Shaky" and lots of other friends on the streets. Some of the most colorful and spirited people you'd ever meet. Children of God with eternal lives that count every bit as much as those of us with a roof.
Friends today talked about how Gator had changed their life. About his loyalty. His fierce love. Another friend spoke of Gator's Christian faith.
It's a big jump from nights sleeping in a trash can to an apartment at The Village. But it's the upgrade-of-all-upgrades to move from The Village to Gator's current accommodations.
I don't know if they wrestle alligators in heaven. But I know this: I'm thankful for Gator's life and that so many had a chance to know his name.
“A lot of people who don’t have a roof over their head don’t have a name on this planet. They are “the homeless.” Homelessness is a problem. Homeless people are precious beyond measure. And they have names.”