The Two Inaugurations Part 1

Washington, DC - My first day in town was a doozy, so much so that it belies the format in which I usually write. I want to tell you the story of my first night in DC, but I'm going to need you to be patient, stick with me. The night began and ended on two different planets. I started out talking to a homeless woman whose husband had set himself on fire, and ended up painting the town with a Jordanian princess and a DC party girl.

I went downtown to pick up credentials, and it was my intention to meet up with some friends. None of them were in town yet, so I walked around, shooting pictures and looking for something to do. In the distance, I heard the sound of drumming, and I thought there might be a story there.

Just outside the Smithsonian, I encountered these street performers, playing drums on garbage cans and plastic drums. There was an adult, and two adorable kids, and they had drawn a nice-sized crowd. I took some video of them, and I wanted to wait until there was a break so I could get their story. Here's some of the video I shot.



As I waited to speak to them, two women in the crowd got into a verbal altercation. They were arguing because one thought the other was standing too close and blocking people's view. She disagreed. I asked the first woman about it. You can see that, and the tail end of the argument in this clip:

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The other woman started mouthing off to the two tourists again, so I went over to her and asked if she could tell me anything about the street drummers. During her argument, I'd overheard her saying she knew them. We stepped away from the crowd to talk.

Her name was Paula, and she told me that the three street performers had been homeless until very recently, that the boys were the man's children, and that they had just managed to get an apartment, but were struggling. None of it was true. She was very drunk, and wanted money.

I started to ask her about her own situation. Paula told me that she's homeless. About four years ago, her husband came into their bedroom, doused himself with gasoline, and set himself on fire. He died two weeks later.

She told me she was hospitalized for quite some time, and that when she got out, she just couldn't shake the grief and the horror. She has two children, who are safe with their biological father.

I managed to get some of Paula's story with my camera, before the battery died. Here's some of what she told me:




We talked for awhile longer. I was deeply affected by her grief. I asked her to wait while I talked to the street performers. It turned out the man was the boys' uncle, was never homeless, and had a job. He works hard and he struggles, like so many people. I'll be seeing him again tomorrow.

I went back to talk to Paula, and I asked her if she would like to get some coffee with me. I also gave her what cash I could spare, so she wasn't tagging along for coffee just to try and scam me.

We went over to a Dunkin Donuts, and as I waited on line, she told me she needed to step outside for a minute. I was afraid she might not come back, and I really wanted to talk to her.

I found her on the side of the Dunkin Donuts, and I quickly looked away. I had picked a Dunkin' Donuts with an out-of-order restroom. When you're homeless, you don't get the red carpet treatment, and it's really important to keep your clothes dry.

She was feeling pretty sick, too, and wanted to go back to the shelter. I offered to walk her there, and we talked as we walked the 10 blocks or so. She ended up in DC because her car had died on her way to Florida, and a couple she met on the road offered to drive her to DC. She abandoned the car and went with them, and that's how she ended up on the streets.

I've got to meet people now, and the arrival at the shelter is a good place to pick up the story. More to come.

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