On January 11, 2015, in Uncategorized, by trayho

My first attempt at a novel. Copyrighted

It had been a brutal day, hours of negotiating with representatives from Detroit’s car manufacturing plant. What I wanted most was to get home, hug my girls, kiss my wife, open a beer and settle down in front of the television. At home I quickly changed from my business attire to Bermuda shorts. As always, Diana had left a note on the fridge door saying she and the kids had gone to grandmas. I grabbed a beer, stretched out on the sofa, turned on the TV for the evening news. The screen showed several cars that had collided on the freeway. I stared at the screen. One of the cars looked like Diana’s. The phone rang. My wife was dead. My children were dead. My home life came to an end.

Diana and I married upon graduating from college. I excelled in athletics and had a promising future in professional football. Unfortunately, I suffered an injury as a result of an illegal hit which caused me to limp for the rest of my life. That didn’t stop me. The future lay ahead and supporting family life was more important than trophies.

Diana was a happy little girl. As kids she would always hug me. When we reached our teen years we had our first kiss. How many of you still remember who, when, and where was your first kiss? She became a cheerleader, not only because of her looks but because of her athletic ability. She was the best of the bunch. We had two girls and a boy. My family life had a good start.

After the horrible tragedy I was devastated and never returned to work; left town and wandered aimlessly from town to town until I ran out of money and lost the car. I became a homeless person, oblivious to time and place. I abused myself constantly. I got hooked on drugs, slept with any woman going through the same hopeless experience and it served a special need to keep warm in the winter.

As a homeless person, the one thing I liked was I didn’t have to woo. Something like: “Lori, how about a dinner date?” became “What dumpster do you live in?” or, “Come to my dumpster and pay no rent.” I had reached the bottom of the dumpsters.

In college I majored in political science. Having the gift of gab I was always called upon to debate and wrote speeches for others. With that background and popularity as an athlete, I had many job opportunities. I opted to work for Diana’s father who owned the largest car dealership in the Southwest and he offered me the sales manager’s job.

My roommate in college was a black person by the name of Jesse. Jesse had won a football scholarship and was selected to the College All American Team three years in a row. He excelled in all sports but chose to try professional football.

One day as I was rummaging through a dumpster, a hand grabbed mine . . .

     “Jesse! What the hell are you doing here?”

     “Who are you?” he asked.

After a few minutes of refreshing his memory of our college days, he started crying uncontrollably. I learned he had suffered injuries in his first season of pro-football. Having his career cut short he found himself penniless with a college degree that meant nothing. He resorted to arm robberies and domestic violence thus spending a few years in prison.

   Jesse and I began running around together. He had not been properly educated but understood the way of homelessness; he was a great source of information. Hustling together we always had something to eat. Jesse, big and strong, got whatever he wanted – especially clothing of others on the streets.

Unfortunately, one morning after Jesse had spent the night sleeping in one of his dumpsters the garbage truck came along and took him on a non-return trip. I never saw him again. But what I learned from Jesse made things easier for me to survive on the streets . . . Thanks, brother, may you rest in peace.

As a homeless person every day was a struggle. Finding food, keeping others away from doing me harm and always having to be on guard 24/7. One day I came upon a truck driver posting political signs; he asked if I wanted to make a couple of bucks. After being on the streets for a few years I never thought about working again. Destiny determines one’s fate.

When asked if I wanted to work, I accepted and after a few hours was given $2 and was asked if I wanted to keep working. I accepted and for the next three days I worked, got paid every day and I was able to buy a meal at the local fast-food place. My stomach temporarily stopped growling at me

   I asked the driver whose picture was on the signs. I was told he was an attorney in town vying for the position of the U.S. House of Representatives.

Having earned a few dollars I was able to purchase used clothing from the Salvation Army. The trucker paid me a compliment stating I was looking better and invited me to the candidate’s rally. I accepted after being told there would be a lot of food. The next day after work the trucker told me he had spoken to the candidate explaining that a homeless person was helping to erect signs and that he could be of help by informing the candidate about the homeless in town.

Having part timework made me think of the day when I might not live on the streets anymore. As fate would have it though, a few nights later I was assaulted and lost part of the clothing I was wearing. Suddenly it belonged to someone else – “spreading the wealth around.”

This was a common occurrence on the streets. I, too, resorted to this type of behavior. I was selective as to what to wear for the next rally I was to attend. I ended getting a sports coat and dress pants from two different people. The coat was black and pants gray. No shirt, just a black Tee-shirt. My shoes were lousy, a few scuff marks but absent of any holes in the soles. I spent a few seconds looking at my reflection in a nearby store window and for a moment envisioned myself wearing the clothing I was accustomed to a few years earlier.

Prior to the next rally I stopped at a store that had samples of deodorants and colognes on the counter. I proceeded to spray myself until I smelled likethe whores at the Mustang Ranch in Nevada.

I still felt way out-of-place at the rally. I stayed in back of the room not wanting to mix with others.The truck driver spotted me and waved to join him. Knowing my constant hunger, he led me to the buffet table for snacks. With me in line was a family with kids. There for a moment flashed a memory of my family enjoying a night out as we had done many times.

The lureof free food and people getting involved in the political process inspired me to henceforth be positive in thinking about my future. I set a goal. I would leave the streets; never to return to the tragic life of homelessness.

Democrat Ken Jones spoke for 35 minutes addressing the ills of society and government’s spending problem but only a few words about homelessness. He said he would support homeless legislation to correct things. These kinds of promises have lost their meaning. Candidates always lie to the crowd and hardly ever deliver unless you are a big donor. It reminds me of a U.S. senator making the following comment before the cameras: “I don’t talk to donors unless they have $30 thousand or more.”

   The seat Ken was vying for was to the U.S. Congress, presently occupied by a Conservative who had been losing in the polls after being vilified and demeaned by the local press for a yet-to-prove scandal having to do with campaign financing. If proven, it could spell his doom.

After the rally ended, the trucker introduced me to candidate Jones. Looking at my ragged clothing he asked if I had just gotten off the freight train. I replied that I had spent all day putting up signs for him. He apologized and asked if I liked the speech. I said I hadn’t paid attention to politics in a long time and couldn’t respond about that. I did mention that the homeless problem was growingand that with my knowledge and experience as a homeless person, I could be of great help to him.

I reminded him that many homeless suffer from mental illness. Long ago people on the streets with mental problems were incarcerated, cared for, and helped. Sadly, liberals in government cut off state funds because they didn’t think it was fair to lock up the homeless. This unwise and stupid thinking allowed mentally ill people to wander the streets creating problems for cities by all the pilfering and assaults that occur every day.

Government has spent millions addressing the issue but as always, most everything government touches ends in failure.

Two weeks went by before the next rally which gave me ample time to develop a presentation if and when called upon to address the homeless problem. I was invited and once again I had to relieve someone of clothing the night before.

After a few snacks and before Ken started his presentation, I asked if he was going to address the homeless problem. He said he had forgotten but if given the opportunity to say something about it – would I?

Knowing I was a homeless person this was a good opportunity for him to use me to address the issue . . . it would help his popularity by coming across as being compassionate. I didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation. I had a lot of experience in debating and giving speeches and confidant I would do well. I told him I would do anything; say anything, to help him.

The venue for the next rally was not a big place; it had room for about 200 people. The hall was easily packed. I heard my name mentioned over the loudspeaker. Unbeknown to me, the trucker had made arrangements for me to speak to the crowd describing the plight of the growing homeless population. It was an opportunity for the candidate to address something too many people had ignored – out-of-sight out-of-mind of the homeless situation. He agreed with the trucker to allow me to speak. I was prepared.

As I got on the stage you could hear a pin drop. It was rare to invite a homeless person to be a participant at a political rally. The shock of it had a positive effect. Once I began my presentation, the dedication and commitment to my cause was evident. My shabby appearance didn’t matter. I used the bathroom earlier, just in case. I read graffiti on the wall – DON’T BE A STAR – USE BOTH HANDS.

I reached back and relied upon the experience I once had debating others while in college and I was able to set aside the frequent butterflies many experience in public speaking . . . even professional speakers.

In earlier years I had learned the secret of public speaking: preparation, learning and understandingthe subject matter, practicing delivery, and believing in the most important product you are selling – yourself! I excelled in all those. I set a goal to think positive of my future and to get involved in the political process. This began a new adventure in my life.

I began my speech by giving credit to the candidate for having the guts to invite a homeless person to address an issue he was beginning to be concerned about. I told the audience that just a few weeks ago I was worried about food and finding a place to sleep. Luckily, a trucker had hired me to assist with putting up signs, and, well, here I am.

It is alarming the increase in homelessness of families out of work; out of homes, and nowhere to turn other than to the streets. New York is an example. It has a little over 50,000 homeless roaming the streets. Homelessness is endemic in the richest country in the world?

The health issue amongst the homeless is appalling and life threatening. Many diseases are widespread; hygiene is last in their thoughts. First is hopelessness and hunger – where to get food. Second, where to sleep, and clothing. This leads to pilfering at stores and assaulting each other for clothes. I never relied on shopping carts to store my belongings like others.    

     Although I didn’t consider myself unstable – I was able to maintain some dignity while on the streets. But, how lucky I consider myself at this very moment standing here before you, given the opportunity to turn my life around and be able to help others. I hadn’t any health problems that I know about, only the depression I had suffered a few years earlier.

For the next few minutes I addressed the horrible predicament of the homeless and the disrespect from society in general. I noticed many children needed medical attention. Tooth problems were common. Hearing kid’s cry because of pain was very upsetting. Ulcerated sores, venereal diseases, hunger pains. Drinking and drugs are a big problem. Many use it to escape the horrors faced each day.

By now most in the audience respectfully listened.

I rattled off some statistics I had researched concerning the problems homeless people faced daily; information not normally shared by politicians on the campaign trail.

Unfortunately, as I continued a few people began to leave. This interruption made me yell “SIT DOWN! LISTEN TO ME. YOU NEED TO KNOW THIS!”

     They heeded my call and returned to their seats

I told them by leaving in the middle of my presentation they were demonstrating the apathy many have of the homeless problem. A few moments later I closed the speech by again plugging the candidate’s concern for the homeless and that he was drafting legislation to increase federal funding of homeless subsidies to the states’. I also stated that when you see a homeless mother with child, witness the tears – tears of grief.

The Jewish Talmud says – “He who talks too much commits a sin.” So, I close with the following words. “God is on my mind and heaven is in my heart.”

I offered solutions and proceeded to praise Ken for his compassion and understanding of the plight people faced daily in the streets. It only took 10 minutes on the stage and when finished I received a standing ovation.

When Ken took over the microphone the crowd roared in approval. After the applause quieted down, but like a true politician, he proceeded to make promises never to be kept.

     And yet, people keep re-electing these criminals. Anywhere from 85% to 90% are sent back to continue their way of enriching themselves while many constituents back home are struggling to make it through, one day at-a-time.

When most had left the hall I got close to the buffet table and proceeded to stuff my pockets (no holes in pockets like the last I wore) with leftovers for next morning’s breakfast. Ken had been standing at the exit shaking hands as people left in approval.

     He saw me standing alone and walked up to me asking if I would consider a part time job working with his staff. I would have a room somewhere and a credit line at the local diner. He gave me money to buy clothing and said what he wanted most was keeping him informed about the homeless as well as a few speeches to be considered.

As time passed and the election got closer, I was accepted by those who made a career in politics – the “in-crowd bureaucracy.” They wield tremendous power unbeknown to many citizens. It’s nothing nowadays for bureaucrats to ignore the law and to thumb their nose at representatives in committee hearings. The system is too corrupted. It’s not a Republic any longer and possibly beyond repair.

My information shared with Ken had made it part of his presentations which resulted in much publicity. A few months later Ken got me a full time job at the party’s state headquarters. I was successful in helping others by giving advice, suggestions and recommendations to tackle campaigning problems and obstacles.

People were asked in a poll taken what they thought of political signs being posted at corners or on lawns. 85% responded they didn’t bother to read signs. 13% said they did but only 2% responded that that’s how they decided who to vote. I told candidates the most effective way to get people’s attention was to hire cheap labor to hold signs at street intersections. Thousands of passing cars becomes a gold mine of people.

People will remember the name on the poster board. During tax time people are hired to dress in a Lady Liberty costume. That gets the attention of many. Others, like car lots, use balloons to attract the eye. My idea was effective: Ken did what I recommended and people going to the polls remembered the sign VOTE FOR JONES being waved at intersections.

A few years earlier as a sales manager at the car dealership we were asked by a prominent politician – an automobile customer – if we would help his campaign. We would have to do it discreetly so as not to lose customers who had other political views. I rounded up a few people to hold signs favoring the politician. I stood out there observing how people in cars responded. I noticed those responding with horn beeps and victory signs before reaching the intersection told me they were politically informed.

Some who responded after passing the intersection often yelled obscenities and used their middle finger to express themselves. Numerous times men driving with kids in the car yelled the F-word. I asked myself, what makes people behave this way? Is America morally bankrupt . . . I’m afraid so.

I suspected something was wrong with society when I saw poor people collecting empty soda cans to supplement their food stamps and grown men skate-boarding down the street, oblivious to what is happening to our country. When people are questioned about politics – many have no clue – not even knowing who the Vice President is. Why? 90% of our people have never read the Constitution. That is a fact!

Many do not understand how damaging the dumbing-down of America has become. It was done intentionally to keep people ignorant of the illegal system foisted upon us by the socialist/communist in both parties supported by a bias and lapdog press. We are a socialist/communist country but, I ask, when was the line crossed between socialism/ communism and our Republic?

The answer: When criminals in Congress illegally delegated control of the country’s monetary to a private corporation in 1913 – the privately owned Federal Reserve. Remember, whoever controls the gold dictates. What criminals in Congress have done for years was to subvert all three branches of government.

There is no separation of powers. Witness how the two branches (Congress and Judiciary) allow most presidents to do “their thing.” The present White House violates our laws (Constitution) every day. Blame both parties in Congress.

So, the next question is who or what is behind all this? The International Bankers invented Communism. In 1848 they hired two communists – Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels to design the 10 Planks of the Communist Manifesto. It stands for slavery whereas our Bill of Rights stands for freedom and liberty. The majority of the American people have no clue.

As a matter of fact, we have the first communist Mayor in New York and believe it or not, we have the first communist president in America. Imagine, the Obama administration telling businesses to pay for contraceptives for employees. No president, no judge, no politician should ever tell Americans citizens what to buy or not – this happens only in a communistic system.

Before long people were addressing me as Mr. Stewart. It wasn’t too long ago I was rummaging through dumpsters for food and here I am, a favorite of a political party.

Ken won easily even though he had been predicted to win before I got involved. I want to believe my help and speech writing made the win much easier. My reputation as a solver of problems grew and I got to meet some of the elite in town and started climbing the social ladder.

I met quite a few frustrated women ignored by many of their political husbands who were too busy hustling campaign money 24/7. I didn’t consider myself good-looking but I had the gift of gab which made me an interesting person in the eyes of many, especially, lonely political wives.

My life took another turn when suddenly Ken, the victorious politician, suffered a heart attack. Having been such an excellent speaker and political writer I was surprised when asked if I would consider accepting an appointment to finish Ken’s position in Congress.

I had been homeless for seven years and another three years involved politically and here I was on my way to Washington. Who knows – tomorrow I may be shooting pool in the White House with the president of the United States. Life is strange; all because I was asked to put up signs.

Because of my presumed expertise in the plight of the homeless, my popularity amongst my colleagues on both sides of the aisle sought me out for social functions. Because of this I was placed in positions of power and was just as popular in Congress as many of the leadership in the parties. My social life kept me going on the run, never considering settling down to start family life again.

I decided to remain a widowed bachelor. I couldn’t imagine otherwise. I attended many cocktail parties and had numerous one-night stands with willing wives.

By now I had gotten a good understanding of the workings of the Congress. What I discovered was how parties are ruled by people who care only about getting power and the ones below always striving to reach the top and to hell with the country and its people.

I won re-election by applying and using campaign fundamentals I taught others. Hell, I even dressed helpers in Uncle Sam uniforms that stood at street corners holding VOTE FOR STEWART signs. What proved me right was that people honked all day long and held up the victory sign. My popularity grew partly because of the legislative bills I had been introducing addressing the homeless problem.

Of all legislation I introduced, including co-sponsoring, it was well received and passed easily. One was the “Homeless Act of 2000.” It allowed more money for states without too many federal controls. It mandated that states use the greater portion of aid for shelters and more access to state operated health entities to address issues of the homeless, especially mental cases. I thought it would be more humane if society sought those with mental problems and incarcerated them until they were well enough to re-join society.

As a result of my reputation of getting things done I began to hear rumors back home that I was being considered as a replacement for a U.S. Senator who was retiring. I was flattered. That possibility was far ahead – at least three more years.

Although I was very busy I still took time to periodically revisit an area in town where the homeless congregated, an area where I had spent many days mingling with other unfortunate ones. Every city has this kind of site. Nothing ever seems to change but I did notice more families were walking the streets, homeless, with no hope in sight. I took time to converse with people in the streets to understand and learn why they became homeless, their health issues, how they were treated by bureaucrats . . . etc., information I could use in my speeches.

As I started to leave the homeless area I noticed a group huddled together keeping warm from a fire in a tin bucket. I gave each one a couple of dollars – said nothing and walked away.

Another time a mother with child was at a street corner begging for food. I asked what happened and was told she had been abandoned by her husband and she had no one else to turn to – not even family. She was not aware of all the assistance available in the system. Having been involved with many organizations that helped homeless people, it was easy for me to direct people facing such hardships to the proper places. She was untrusting at first until I identified myself as a U.S. congressional person in government. I asked her to come with me.

The data I began collecting would come in handy as I ran around the country addressing State, County, and City governments on homelessness. Many families had been financially wiped out because of high medical and hospitalization costs.

The faltering U.S. economy added to the misery because of unemployment. Add the corruption and deficit spending by Congress that returns very little, almost nothing, like we got for the billions spent in the stimulus spending bill. A devious piece of legislation the Congress and White House authorized to bailout millionaire and billionaire donors, as well as many labor unions. It was payback time and millions of the ignorant decided to re-elect what is becoming the worse administration ever. People just kept enjoying the Internet, as always, oblivious to the deceitful move by politicians. Shovel ready jobs – where?

There are millions without health insurance. Obamacare will still leave out millions without insurance. Perhaps if we cut billions upon billions of waste and corruption in government we could help those in need. The socialist/communistic welfare system keeps snowballing and appears to be too deep-rooted to reverse. The Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) is nothing but control of the people, and health is secondary.

Because government has been operated outside the mandates of the Constitution for so long we don’t have government of the people any longer. It is being run by a mob. The mob is the two parties in control who are in bed with the corporate world and the elite, and constitutional law is ignored. Coming from the old school it’s hard for me to believe a president can flout constitutional laws every day and the controlled press will not attack this type of constitutional criminal behavior. What’s that tell you about the “free press” and the separation of powers in your Constitution? Communists in America have infiltrated all our institutions.

The U.S. Congress is responsible for many problems. Of the three branches they are the most powerful – they control the purse and can defund most any project they want, but won’t. Why? Because most are criminals – all of them in bed together and the public is oblivious, concerned only with Super Bowls and soaps on the tube.

After experiencing working with the U.S. Congress, I realized what we needed was a Citizens Council – a National Grand Jury composed of one person from each state to address wrong-doing by criminals in the three branches of government who decide things unconstitutionally with no accountability. The three branches of government are too subverted that millions of people don’t understand how dangerously close we are of losing our freedom and liberties.

This Council would meet once a year and have subpoena and impeachment power, apart from the three branches of government to rid the U.S. Government of the filth and scum that has turned Congress into a den of criminals. The impeachment process of Congress is no longer viable. It’s been subverted just as presidential pardons have been . . . just follow the money. There would be no appeals. The three branches would be barred from interfering.

Witness how the criminals in the senate allowed the sexual pervert from Arkansas to keep from being thrown out of the White House after being impeached by the House. And notice today how they allow a radical president to sit in the White House while he commits unconstitutional crimes and Congress has made no attempt to stop. Courts rule against the president, and both he and his Attorney General ignore the laws.

As noted earlier, we have a criminal government who has allowed the International Bankers (Owners of the Federal Reserve) to enslave us economically forever. This is contrary to your laws in the Constitution. This has happened because America has been intentionally dumbed-down. 90% of the people have never read the Constitution. That’s what we’ve gotten from government controlled education. They’ve been at it for many decades and this is why Congress and the White House are able to commit constitutional crimes every day because of our ignorance.

The 10th Plank of the Communist Manifesto is “free public education.” Sounds great, doesn’t it? And who controls the teachers? The Communist dominated unions. Most of the membership has no clue.

I am unwavering in my pursuit of better government even though I will be squashed as many other “do-gooders” of the past have been. Witness how the media treats Conservatives and the Tea Party. It is all based on lies, delivered by the lapdogs in the press.

Because of my success in reporting about homelessness and the legislation that seemed to be helping, I became known as “Mr. Homelessness” in the halls of Congress. Soon I was being called upon by the White House to partake in meetings that addressed the problem. I was invited by the president to tour with him across country addressing organizations involved in this matter. I was feeling good at doing what I liked best – helping those in need.

Suddenly history repeated and the U.S. Senator of my party died in a plane crash overseas while attending a junket of supposedly something of importance. Rumors began to fly that I was being considered for the Senate. Being selected to finish out the senator’s term happened so fast I was inundated with emails, phone calls and well-wishes. I loved it all.

As a representative of the people in the Senate I didn’t particularly see much difference between a senator and a House representative. Although U.S. senators are more popular than those in the House, House representatives are lessor known nationally. They are all the same, though, always concerned with re-election and hustling money 24/7.

I was the only one in Congress apart from others because of my background about homelessness. I was assigned positions of power and became sought after to many social functions, parties, and junkets. At one of these functions, an annual social event, was the only time senators of both parties came together outside Congress to share the same table at a social event.

I sat at a table where a very attractive classy lady sat next to me. Her voice was sensual, smooth and sweet. I began talking to her and found out she was married to someone of the opposing party, but was absent that night – he was on a fact finding tour in the Middle East. She had come alone.

Sitting next to her for two hours gave me the opportunity to become acquainted. She asked what I did and told her about my mission to help the homeless. She asked if I was the person many were talking about; one who was spearheading the homeless cause. I answered in the affirmative but quickly changed the subject to more about her.

Though married, she hinted she was interested in knowing me better. As the event was coming to a close I plucked a flower from the vase on the table and as I stood to say goodbye I gave it to her and said: “I designed a game of love – there are no losers. Will you play?” She nodded in the affirmative and touched her lips with a finger.

Several functions later, although accompanied by her husband, we were able to share a few moments together away from him and the crowd and planned on meeting elsewhere. I learned to relax with Trish and enjoyed moments of pleasures away from the hypocrisy of the political world. What made our relationship work was the mutual understanding that we would never become too serious. We just enjoyed ourselves with no strings attached.

   I started preparing for re-election. I didn’t realize how much more campaigning as a senator would be compared to the House. The money to be raised as a senator is in the millions more than of a Congressperson. I heard a sitting senator say that he would never talk to anyone unless they had $30,000 – and he was caught on camera when he said it. This criminal senator was re-elected again and again.

Every day more promises to special interest groups, more territory to cover, on the road constantly and problems of the people could wait. That is the prevailing attitude in Congress. Forget about presidents. Most all of them become wealthy just for being president.

Unbeknown to the general public there is a constitutional law that states politicians may not enrich their bank account while holding office. But as most laws in the Constitution are ignored, ignorant people don’t seem to care. We are truly an ignorant society.

After grueling days of campaigning and many speeches later, I was tiring easily. A constant sore throat was bothering me; my voice was becoming hoarse. I was barely able to finish a speech without drinking a lot of water and it began to be a serious problem. I tried all kinds of medications but it persisted. The election was six months away, too far away not to seek medical help.

Dr. Hurm was very popular with people in Congress. He was the one to see when voice or throat problems occurred. He had been recommended by a friend of Trish. The morning of the first appointment I didn’t feel well at all. As I was being checked in – weighing, blood pressure, temperature – I weighed 175. The last time weighed I remember it was 190. Now I understand why my clothing was fitting loosely. Doctor Hurm came in, identified himself and after some talk he said for me to rest for a few days and that I would be receiving the results of the tests.

The rest helped quite a bit; I was able to resume light campaigning. A few days afterward I was at the airport awaiting a flight when I received a call from the doctor’s office announcing that the doctor wanted to see me immediately. I told them I was on my way out of town and too late for me to cancel the important fundraiser. On my way back home I began to worry what the doctor had discovered, if anything, at all.

     “Good morning, Senator Stewart.”

     “Good morning, Dr. Hurm. I’m sorry I took so long getting here; it’s just that campaigning involves many people and its hard taking time off. But I’m glad I did. What’s up?”

     “When was the last time you had a physical, Senator Stewart?”

     “I’m embarrassed to admit it’s been a few years. I spent several years as a homeless person and prior to that it was sports in college where I had my last physical. What have you to say?”

     “I am going to be brief and to the point, Senator. You tested for HIV positive. Once you compose yourself, I will bring you up to date where we are medically in treatment and possible medications to alleviate the problem.”

Although somewhat shocked, nothing could shock me more of what I felt when I lost my family. It had taken me a few years to get over the depression that I agonized.

Upon the doctor’s request I had to relate what I had been doing for the last few years prior to becoming a politician. He asked about being sexually active and told him the truth about my days on the streets, of all the encounters I had with many homeless women. Quite frankly, I was embarrassed about the revelation.

After bringing me up to date in the latest advancements in the treating of Aids patients and how the medical field was advancing in finding a cure, he finally started asking the hard questions.

     “Senator Stewart, since you came to Congress how many times, have you had sexual relations with others?”

     “Dr. Hurm, I’m sorry to admit it but quite a few. Should I have known certainly I would’ve refrained from any contact with the unsuspecting.”

     “Are you seeing anyone intimately now? I understand you are not married?”

     “I am not married, and yes, I am seeing others.”

     “You must tell them immediately of your condition. It must be done! I will not ask for names but it is vitally important to understand how serious and deadly this can be for you and others.”

I left the doctor’s office in sadness and shame. When and how would I begin to tell others of the predicament they were in? Societal attitudes towards those with Aids had become more tolerant, but a U.S. Senator? There wasn’t much I could do other than to follow instructions the doctor had ordered. It was impossible to remember names of all those I slept with. Most were homeless people. It’s not like I carried an address book.

Confessing to ones since I left the streets would be hard – they come and go. But Trish, my steady companion was going to be my toughest to confess to. I waited for Trish’s husband to take another expensive junket to ask her that I wanted to meet with her. As always, she accepted. We met at our favorite secluded spot, a cocktail lounge in a suburb far away from the hustle and bustle of the political world. She looked beautiful; a smile and voice I had fallen in love with.

After a warm embrace and a kiss, we ordered a cocktail and I proceeded to confess much of my background. She already knew the homelessness part of it but not the sordid details one experiences on the streets. What I disclosed was shocking to her, of course. I could sense her concern.

     “Trish. I have something to say that aches all the way to my soul. But I must. I tested recently for Aids. Dr. Hurm strongly ordered me to tell others. He didn’t ask for names.”

Trish’s demeanor immediately changed. She stood to leave and I grabbed her hand. I begged her for a couple of minutes more. I explained that the virus could lay dormant for a while and that research had been discovering many methods of treatment. Many with Aids had recovered and were living normal lives. She started to leave again.

     “Trish, I know you will never be with me again,” . . . She didn’t let me finish; she walked away. I sat for a long period of time, ordered more drinks and got drunk.

Medication was making my condition tolerable. I continued doing the best I could. I stayed away from relations and the meds eliminated the sore throat. The election was a year away and polls were showing the race would be close. I had a crew of poster-handlers spread throughout the State and that would generate thousands of votes in my favor.

One morning after the doctor’s dreadful news, I received a phone call from a staff member in my opponent’s campaign headquarters. I was warned that if I didn’t drop out of the race, I would be exposed of having Aids.

     Think about this: Lady Luck had been good to me. I went from being homeless to running for the U.S. Senate. But being blackmailed by a U.S. Senator? Later I learned that my doctor’s association with my opposing party was that of a big donor.

I surmised there was only one person responsible for the leak of my illness – Dr. Hurm. I discovered he had been an advocate of legislation I voted against and defeated that would have benefitted the American Medical Association. He was the person lobbyists of the AMA went to when in need of help. After much thought about my problem and how to resolve it, I had no choice but to make the following phone call:

     “This is Senator Lewis.”

     “Good morning, Senator Lewis. This is Senator Stewart. I will not mince words. I received a call from your office and there is absolutely no question as to who authorized that call. I am sorry for the problem I have caused. It goes much deeper than what you believe. You have no idea how damaging it’s been to me and shall be for others.

     He interrupted by accusing me of being a pervert, selfish, and hypocrite using the homeless issue as a spring-board to fame and fortune. He called me an S.O.B. I kept my cool.

     “Senator Lewis, as you’ve heard I tested for HIV positive and I know this information was given to you by Dr. Hurm. As of now, my health is OK. My illness is under control and has been almost eliminated according to recent tests. Calling me an S.O.B. is typical of those in your party – always using dirty tactics to destroy. You can’t destroy the truth; it is infinite and never dies.”

In a loud and hostile voice he screamed . . . “What the hell are you driving at!?”

     “If you haven’t had a physical lately I would certainly get one because you may also be infected. If you recall, a while back we shared a trip on a junket overseas that included wives and staff members. In a moment of arousal your wife and I had a tryst and it continued until recently. In our love-making she confessed you had been neglecting her and suspected you were screwing around with female staff members.

     I will call a news conference back home and meet with constituents to explain this sudden change in my life. I will be resigning my senate seat. I will not name names as many of you in the party are prone to do. This call has been taped. Goodbye and good luck!”

My resignation from the Senate caused quite a stir; the controversy soon faded.

Because of my hard work and dedication to homelessness, I had many job offers from organizations working to solve the problems. I became the spokesperson for the movement.

Homelessness will always be. Human behavior is too complex. Add to this the socialist/communist welfare system that in history has always failed. When people are programmed to accept government dependency, it becomes deep-rooted in the psyche and may be hard to eradicate. And this is what happens when a home and country is devoid of the 10 Commandments, Government becomes God.

602-234-1245 or mibblesleo1274@outlook.com




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