I got a job shutting off people’s Cable TV. This was a HUGE step down, by the way: the ‘Great Recession’ took out almost the complete construction industry. I’d go on about it, but… here we are. Anyway. I took my work truck with the rack and ladders, and rode it out as a contractor doing ‘Field Disconnects’: “Hey, you got $40? No? I’m shutting you off.”

I learned that TV is a drug like any other: take it away, people go berserk. You gotta finesse that stuff.

I rode through a private apartment building complex; it was subsidized, but Section 8 ; privately run. Since the Fed didn’t run it, it was highly desirable. Exclusive. I saw a young Black girl wandering in the parking lot, looking confused; this was, at this place, somewhat odd: the management did not tolerate stray kids. I pulled up and she ran back inside.

I went to the front office, got the key to enter the outer door: they knew me, knew I wasn’t dealing, knew I spent no more time than necessary for the disconnect (guys had been let go for screwing the single moms: more than 10 minutes was suspicious).

I went to the apartment, and that same girl answered the door. Kids answering the door is nothing special, so I asked her, “Hey is (I will now make up a name) Katrina here?”

Girl says, “Yeah, she here, but I can’t wake her up.”

Me, getting that sinking feeling, thinking: “Oh, come on. Really? This is me, having to do this, again? Why am I being gifted with this? WTF?!”

Me: “What’s your name?”

Girl: “Nia.”

Me: “Okay, Nia, when was the last time you talked to your momma: Katrina?”

Girl, scared and distressed: “I don’t remember.”

Me: “Do you want me to come in, and check on your momma?”

Girl: “…Yeah.”

I can’t finish this right now. The mother was dead on the bathroom floor, and the girl, whose name I won’t share right now, had been sleeping with her body for 3 days.

I did, however, walk her outside the apartment, and find a lifelong family in a Black family who, incredibly, shared my same last name. And theirs, mine. I held her hand on the way out of the building, and I will never, ever forget it.

I did a positive thing for an innocent. I did it. She helped me. I helped her.