Several hours ago someone knocked at my door quite insistently-loud enough to
get me off the treadmill.  I wasn't planning on answering-I was covered in
sweat and wearing sweatpants and a spandex top.  I had ten minutes left to
walk.  The knocking was urgent-I responded.

A man named Tommy who is one of the homeless vets I knew from HAMP days was
standing at my door.  He came to tell me that our friend Scotty was dead.
Scotty was this wonderful mid fifties guy who took it upon himself to be my
guardian angel when we first opened HAMP years ago.  In that first year before
we had enough volunteers and an actual clinic, I would be working at the tiny
little office by myself, treating people who were often just a little scary.
Mental illness, addiction  and alcoholism run rampant through the homeless
community.  I met Scotty sometime in the first week we opened HAMP.  He was a
Nam vet, smart, homeless and an alcoholic and just plain good.

Scotty was a big guy who was missing a few front teeth and looked formidable.
He appointed himself as my guardian angel.  He would sit outside while I was
working to make sure no one gave me a hard time.  I would walk me to my car
when I worked evenings.  That winter I moved him inside so he could sleep in
the little office space.  Scotty became a fixture at HAMP.  Eventually he got
into a program, stopped drinking, bought a little boat and got those teeth
fixed.  He did pickup work at a local lumber yard but in the winter, he was
always there to walk me safely to my car.

Scotty became so invested in the clinic that he would often be reminding people
to take their meds.  He was a street ambassador for HAMP. Even when we had to
shut the clinic doors last year as funding just wasn't covering the clinic and
my personal financial situation meant I was not funding it either, Scotty still
called me to insist that I see someone he thought needed care.  he had an
endearing slightly manipulative phrase, "Doc, you know I'd never ask for myself
but my buddy...."  He never did ask for himself

I have known this guy for years.  As the years rolled by he became a friend.
He had two fears: one was dying alone and the other was having nothing mark his
life spent on this earth.

I had not seen Scotty since I got back from Florida.  Evidently he was bitten
by a spider shortly after I left and developed a staph infection that became
systemic.  He was taking antibiotics but just the penicillin that you get at
the county health clinic.  I guess he was going to go to the VA hospital in
Palo Alto on Tuesday.  He didn't show up for the bus.  Wednesday night a friend
of his was going to crash on the boat with him and found him dead.  He had
indeed died alone.  The prelim autopsy findings are concluding he died of acute
septicemia.

I feel sad that I got so wrapped up in my life after coming back from Florida,
that I didn't check on him.  I feel sad that he didn't let me know he needed
help. He will leave a huge hole in the homeless community and also in my heart.

Here's what I would like from you, my ASA family: can you say a prayer or light
a candle for Scotty?  I am putting this message out to my huge at large
community.  I think the best memorial to him and his gentle spirit is just the
acknowledgment that he lived.  He served his country, he served the homeless
community and he served all of us at the clinic in ways he will never even
know.  He made the small office in a slightly scary part of town feel safe for
all of us who worked there.  

Melinda