This morning, just before 8 a.m., Larry was sitting on one of the benches outside our Resource Center. He was soaking wet from the rain, shivering, and waiting for KACS to open – his face etched with exhaustion, fear, and sadness.
“I didn’t do anything,” he said quickly, his voice trembling. “Please don’t get me in trouble.”
With a gentle smile, he was reassured. “You’re safe here, we’re here to help.”
Larry’s clothes were soaked, and he carried nothing, but a torn, overstuffed backpack barely held together with clips. His left arm hung limp at his side. He said he was hungry, so we invited him inside to our small waiting area and brought him food and water from our Food Cupboard.
He looked up with tired eyes and said quietly, “I need help.”
He explained he’d had a stroke a few years ago and, with tears filling his eyes as he confessed, “I tried to cut my hand off.” He began to sob, repeating, “I need help, I need help.” Looking down, there were deep scratches and dried blood on his hand and wrist to verify his story.
When asked if he’d like to go to the hospital, he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper: “Yes.” We were heartbroken for Larry.
As we waited for help to arrive, Larry opened up about his struggles: Homeless for the past 11 months, he’d been walking all night in the rain after leaving Coatesville, where he’d tried to stay with a friend. He spoke about his battle with alcohol and the hopelessness that had consumed him.
Tears streamed down his face as he said, “My mom would be ashamed of me if she saw me now.”
When the police and ambulance arrived, they treated Larry with compassion and care. He told them, as he had told us, that he wanted to hurt himself but desperately needed help.
Today, Larry was seen not as a homeless man or a statistic, but as a human being deserving of kindness and dignity. His story serves as a reminder of why we do what we do at KACS.
For Larry, today was a step toward hope. He found a safe place, warm food, and people who cared. And because of the generosity of our community and the work of our team, we were able to connect him with the help he so desperately needed.
But Larry’s story isn’t unique. There are countless others like him — walking through the rain, carrying the weight of hopelessness, and waiting for someone to see them. Together, we can make sure they’re not alone.
If you’d like to support our work and help people like Larry find hope, please visit www.kacsimpact.org to learn more or make a donation.
