Al of the 71

Butuki of Laughing~Knees had a post today about a homeless man on the subway in Tokyo and an ugly scene of intolerance. I originally wrote the following piece in response to Fred First’s request for stories about town “characters” while I was visiting the East Coast recently. I’m glad to have the chance to post it today, reminded of it by Butuki’s post and by the oft-repeated statistic that most Americans are three paychecks away from homelessness…

When I lived near Harvard Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I took the 71 bus to Mount Auburn Cemetery in May for an hour or two or warblers before work. At that time in the morning the bus was often practically empty, but usually Al would be riding the bus.

Al knew all the drivers by name and rocked back and forth in a sing-song about how many cans he’d found in the garbage on his last run and how much he’d won on his last scratch ticket, which is where he invested all of his can redemption nickels. He had ample opportunity to buy tickets: early in the morning the drivers all stopped for coffee on Huron Avenue and Al hopped out with them to try his luck every time. He seemed pretty much to break even.

I never knew where Al lived or whether he even had a home—or whether his home was actually the 71 bus. (He had no bags other than those with his cans inside, so that didn’t seem very likely.) When I visited Cambridge last year, I heard the legend that Al’s parents had left him a fortune when they died, along with their house. It’s possible, but it’s also a kind of Cambridge legend.

I saw Al again on the morning of June 23 this year as I waited for the 71 to take me into Harvard Square from Watertown and on to South Station. His hands and jacket were their usual grimy selves but he seemed to move more slowly than before, a hazard when your strategy for crossing Mount Auburn Street is simply to barge out into the traffic.

Al didn’t recognize me-after all, I left the area seven years ago-but he did manage a half-smile back. It occurred to me that he probably faces far more scowls than smiles most places he goes. As age starts to grind him down, I hope he has some guardian angel other than the 71 bus drivers to look out for him…