This was only the beginning

GERALD ANDERSON Artist/Vendor

It was tough for me to sell my papers and my books because of COVID-19. It was so strange to stand at my post at the top of Gallery Place Metro Station in downtown D.C., and no one came up the escalator for me to say, “Good morning, have a blessed day. Do not let Metro take your spirit away.”

My days and my nights were really boring. I felt like the world was coming to an end. I was sleeping out on the bench by the bank Suntrust. I was scared to take food from people passing. They would ask, “Do you want something to eat?” I was really hungry, but I was scared because they were saying on the news to stay six feet apart — don’t eat from people you don’t know.

I heard the news from a TV in the basement of a church on 13th Street where homeless people could go and eat and shower, and also they give out masks. They would tell you to be safe out there on the street.

It meant a lot to me that the guy from the restaurant Zaytinya was feeding us homeless folks good, hot food. They went around in Jeeps passing out food to those who of us living on the street.

Sleep was hard. Honestly, I couldn’t actually sleep, because I was thinking something bad could really happen. I was worried about Covid. I was laying there with one eye open, one eye closed, not really getting any rest.

Then I saw some people that came by and they were bringing me food and telling me to be real careful because of the march. They say, “Hey, you seen the news? Look like a march coming. Be careful man.”

A pastor from another church offered to rent me a hotel room. He got me a room with all clean sheets and towels and soaps, right down the street from the White House.

That’s when I looked out my hotel window, facing right at the White House. I start seeing a lot of people around there yelling, hollering, holding signs about Trump. People passing out fliers.

As I come out of my hotel room to sell my papers at the

ABEL PUTU

Artist/Vendor