That was thirty years ago, and his hair was raven black, down to his shoulders, a big drooping moustache, a clean sportscoat of some kind, maybe a sweater or t shirt underneath, clean and unwrinkled. Oh and handsome. His gaze was serene and his step was purposeful even though he never seemed to reach any destination.
Like I said he was here, he was there, mostly downtown. You know how it is like maybe the guy who sits across the aisle on the bus to work every morning, and you see the guy everyday and it seems like you maybe should acknowledge him, so after you sit down you look right at him and give him a little nod, little enough so that it would maybe look like you never did it, and maybe after a couple times the guy nods back and so you get into doing that every morning. You don't try to have a conversation, just the acknowledge is enough.
And after running into the guy maybe a dozen times I felt like maybe I should give him a nod. but no. just looking at him you could tell he didn't want a nod. didn't want anybody bothering him, just as he never bothered anybody. Well alright then, fair enough.
Like I said he cut an imposing figure, tall, handsome, well-dressed, and you thought maybe he owned a chain of restaurants and was looking for a spot for a new one, or more likely he was connected to showbiz and was scouting a location. But like I said he was always walking, like that was all he had in mind, he just wanted to walk and not bother anybody.
One of the local columnists wrote a column on the unusual things downtown that you take for granted, and the walking man was one of them. There wasn't a photo of him but it wasn't necessary, I knew who he was talking about. And so did everybody else so that you could just say the walking man and everybody knew who you were talking about, not that you mentioned him that often because he never bothered anybody.
The years went by, his hair turned grey, than white, he became a little stooped, his pace was slowed, but he was still walking, doggedly walking the streets of downtown.
People wondered about him, he didn't seem like a bum, his clothes were always clean and unwrinkled, he never seemed to be drunk or high in any way. Who was he? Where did he come from? But who do you ask? You couldn't ask him because you knew he didn't want to talk, he didn't want to bother anybody and you had to respect that and not bother him.
Six years ago he got attacked with a bat as he slept. They caught the guy but I believe he was homeless also, and deranged, and didn't know what he was doing, except that he wasn't not bothering anybody. He was in the hospital for a couple weeks and they thought he was going to lose an eye, but that never happened. His family came forward, nice folks it seemed. At some point in his youth he was selling jewelry on the street and that entailed a lot of walking and he got to like the walking and let the jewelry slide and just walked. He was happy enough doing that, that is how we wanted to spend his life.
And he was back on the sidewalk not long afterwards and both his eyes were fine, and everybody was fine with that. it was good to have him back walking purposefully down the sidewalk, not bothering anybody.
And then just a few days ago as he was sleeping in the underground street just a block or two east of where I live somebody set him on fire. He's not dead yet but he probably will be. There are surveillance photos of the attacker getting on the train afterwards and riding it to the end of the line. Nobody knows he was, and maybe he will be caught and maybe he won't.
Everybody in the city feels bad. How could this happen to somebody who never bothered nobody?
https://abc7chicago.com/man-set-on-fire-chicago-loop-police/11892674/
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