Story
Jesse 'will marry for food'
New York City, 25 June 2019, 6.00am. I was leaving the 7 Line sleepy and dizzy. I slept only 4 hours, so it was a though battle between me and my alarm, but fortunately I was still on time: I had an appointment with Jesse next to Grand Central Station. This was my second visit there: a day before I was exploring the station mainly following Lee Stringer’s book ‘Grand Central Winter: Stories from the Street’. The station was one of his many shelters while he was living homeless. The past 30 years however have not gone by without major changes: ‘Street News’, – a newspaper which was edited by him and sold by the homeless – got discontinued 20 years ago, and even the Station’s interior would be hard to recognize. After all those years, however, the station is still surrounded by people living on the street as it provides good infrastructure, and the travellers and commuters mean a decent a source of bottles and cans, left-over food and money.
I first met Jesse next to the station. He was lying on the ground under the windows of ‘Banana Republic’. He got my attention by holding a sign that said, ‘will marry for food’. Unlike other panhandlers, Jesse was not depressed or bitter. He tried to have fun with people who were passing by.
I wanted to take a photo of him, so I sat down next to him on the ground, and started my story: this was my very first time in NYC, and as a photojournalist I would really love to dive into the issues NYC is facing nowadays. I learned that there are around 65 thousand homeless people in NYC, 4 thousands of them are living and sleeping on the street. Considering that a constitutional amendment criminalized homelessness in my country (Hungary) thus forbidding homeless people by law from living in public spaces, I was curious to learn about this issue in one of the world’s largest metropolises. Jesse was helpful from the very beginning, partially maybe because he used to work as a photographer, back in his ‘normal’ life. (He is also on Instagram, check out @willmarryforfood.) By the end of our conversation I knew that I wanted to document one of his days, which he kindly allowed me to. “See you tomorrow. It’s going to be early.” he said with an always positive, playful tone. When I left my room at 5.15am, the rain was already drizzling. By the time I got to the station, it was raining. Since Jesse’s place for the night was not covered, he could not snooze the alarming rain as I did an hour earlier.
Just as Jesse did every morning, we started at a Starbucks, where he could refill his energy by a coffee and recharge his phone. When we entered the Starbucks nearby, there were already people ’recharging’, resting in armchairs, cups next to them on the tables with steaming warm coffee.
The staff already knew these regular customers, and did not have any bad words to them, which I appreciated a lot. Jesse started to surf on the web via his smartphone and, after awhile, he fell asleep. By now it was raining heavily outside, and as we approached the rush hour, more and more businessmen came in to start their days. They filled up the room from the other corner. The implicit rift between the poor and the ‘others’ was obvious.
We left around 8am to return to Jesse’s morning place: a piece of rock on 42th street, at Pershing square. As he started to ‘find a wife for food’, I tried to keep my distance not to disturb his business. I spent twelve hours in the neighbourhood of the rock. There were times when Jesse intensively addressed people, there were times when he took a nap on the rock, and there were times when we had pleasant conversations. I learned that he just came to NYC a few months ago from the west coast. Long time ago he was engaged in film industry, but an unfortunate knee injury however changed everything for the worst: he had to sell his gears to pay his bills for a while, but eventually he ended up on the street. This situation however, – according to him – is not a one-way street; hopefully his leg will recover, letting him to restart his pedicab business. With that income he could financially recover, get a place to stay and to start shooting a movie about his story. The latter seems to be more like a dream, although – based on his enthusiasm and background – I really believe that he will have his short-film soon.
By spending more and more time with him, I had to realize how successful his ‘marketing strategy’ was; without his signs, Jesse would be just another poor homeless guy sitting on the street by Grand Central Station: no story, no money, no mercy. But ‘I will marry for food’ breaks the ice: people stop to give him a smile or look the other way, bring some food or leave him behind quickly. He makes impression to people and get their attention – sometimes by shouting at the drivers, just like Dustin Hoffman did in ‘Midnight Cowboys’ back in 1969 (Jesse is proud of his educated background, it doesn’t matter that only few can recall the scene from this movie).
What Jesse is demonstrating, is not the typical pattern we are used to. He makes fun of us as well as himself. When I pointed this out, he referred to Shakespeare’s work, as humour mostly comes from tragedy. Otherwise – how my wife would say –, every joke has a half that is true.
I left at 8pm. I had a tiring day; the weather was hot and humid. Jesse was still out on the rock. He usually leaves around 10-11pm and goes back to his private shelter with no cover. He starts again tomorrow; and continues until his leg recovers and gets a proper job. I fully admire him and all his fellows who do this all day, all week, all month and all year. I am sure everyone has a story. I learned Jesse’s and I can tell you it really does worth visiting Grand Central Station to meet him: you may not get married, but I hope you will smile once you pass Jesse’s rock.
Find the short story about Jesse published in 'Stigma' anthology here (hun): bit.ly/3jLsIry
'Man tries to be sociologist all the time, but the truth is, if you look around, we really suck at it. So I don’t know if there is anything to be done about homelessness. What? Eliminate it? Move these people? Get them out of our faces? Feed everybody? I don’t know what’s to be done about it, except to find what your relationship is to it. I think that’s the only work. Not to eliminate what offends our sense of what should be, or who we are. Just to find relationship to it. Just, when you pass somebody on the street: What is your relationship to that person? I mean, how human beings do we relate to one another? Anything beyond that is bullshit.'
Lee Stringer, author of Grand Central Winter, lived on the streets of NYC for a decade
'You know, the subject of Grand Central Winter, which involves homelessness, has been seen by a lot of people as a tragedy. But usually at the end of a tragedy somebody dies, and being alive now I can’t think of it as a tragedy. What I have taken away is certain brand optimism. Even the bad stuff is an opportunity. There are possibilities there. In fact, I see more possibilities in adversity than in, say, lying on satin pillows. So, in that respect, I guess I am an optimist. I think there’s reason for optimism – at least for personal optimism. I don’t know if the world is going to survive, but I’m going to go as long as my heart beats.'
Lee Stringer, author of Grand Central Winter, lived on the streets of NYC for a decade