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My homeless friend’s death shocked me into taking action My homeless friend’s death shocked me into taking action
(1 day later)
It was the dog’s whining that alerted Patrick to the fact that his father, lying in the tent beside him, had died. They were in a park in central London, where they had set up to sleep rough like any other night. But this was last New Year’s Eve, a bitterly cold night, and Paddy, 52, had by all accounts given up.It was the dog’s whining that alerted Patrick to the fact that his father, lying in the tent beside him, had died. They were in a park in central London, where they had set up to sleep rough like any other night. But this was last New Year’s Eve, a bitterly cold night, and Paddy, 52, had by all accounts given up.
Anyone who has been to London in the past few years will have noticed that the number of people sleeping rough on the streets has risen visibly. It’s a nationwide problem: the most recent statistics from the government say there has been a 16% increase in rough sleepers in the past year alone, with 23% of them living in London.Anyone who has been to London in the past few years will have noticed that the number of people sleeping rough on the streets has risen visibly. It’s a nationwide problem: the most recent statistics from the government say there has been a 16% increase in rough sleepers in the past year alone, with 23% of them living in London.
We live in a society led by a government that increasingly appears to make policy despite us, rather than for us. Councils are stretched to breaking point, with relentless cuts shaping their decisions. In Finsbury Park, London, around Christmas, I would walk past sleeping shelters made up under the bridge. Small piles of food and clothing would be left by passersby, conscious of the temperatures dropping to below zero. The shelters disappeared, it seemed overnight. One of the women who had slept there claimed to a friend that the council came on that same New Year’s Eve and confiscated everything they had. The homeless were allowed to keep what they could hold. Apparently in a bitter addition of insult to the injury, the police were brought along – to protect the council workers turfing the rough sleepers out. The council said people were told in advance about the move, that it was because of necessary cleaning works and that people were offered alternatives.We live in a society led by a government that increasingly appears to make policy despite us, rather than for us. Councils are stretched to breaking point, with relentless cuts shaping their decisions. In Finsbury Park, London, around Christmas, I would walk past sleeping shelters made up under the bridge. Small piles of food and clothing would be left by passersby, conscious of the temperatures dropping to below zero. The shelters disappeared, it seemed overnight. One of the women who had slept there claimed to a friend that the council came on that same New Year’s Eve and confiscated everything they had. The homeless were allowed to keep what they could hold. Apparently in a bitter addition of insult to the injury, the police were brought along – to protect the council workers turfing the rough sleepers out. The council said people were told in advance about the move, that it was because of necessary cleaning works and that people were offered alternatives.
It is a societal moral code turned on its head. Stunned and baffled, I am also one of those who see the people sleeping on the streets and walks on thinking, hoping, that someone is looking after them. That is what our taxes are for, after all. And yet, deep down we all know the structures that once looked after our most vulnerable have buckled. Who, then, is responsible for them?It is a societal moral code turned on its head. Stunned and baffled, I am also one of those who see the people sleeping on the streets and walks on thinking, hoping, that someone is looking after them. That is what our taxes are for, after all. And yet, deep down we all know the structures that once looked after our most vulnerable have buckled. Who, then, is responsible for them?
Sometimes it takes one person to make the difference. Paddy was that person for me. He and his scraggy, kind old dog Gerard were based every evening at Leicester Square tube (exit 1), and for the past two years we met every week on my way home from choir. They were a familiar sight to all the locals, and during our conversations people would stop to pass the time of day. Paddy loved the fact that I sing at St Martin-in-the-Fields, and like clockwork would brush off my concerns, instead asking with a twinkle in his eye: “But did you sing well tonight?”Sometimes it takes one person to make the difference. Paddy was that person for me. He and his scraggy, kind old dog Gerard were based every evening at Leicester Square tube (exit 1), and for the past two years we met every week on my way home from choir. They were a familiar sight to all the locals, and during our conversations people would stop to pass the time of day. Paddy loved the fact that I sing at St Martin-in-the-Fields, and like clockwork would brush off my concerns, instead asking with a twinkle in his eye: “But did you sing well tonight?”
When I learned of his death from his son, I realised I couldn’t keep walking by. Modern society let Paddy down, and he died of cold on the streets. His son Patrick, now an orphan, in some kind of ugly twist of tradition, has inherited his father’s pitch, his dog, his tent … his homelessness.When I learned of his death from his son, I realised I couldn’t keep walking by. Modern society let Paddy down, and he died of cold on the streets. His son Patrick, now an orphan, in some kind of ugly twist of tradition, has inherited his father’s pitch, his dog, his tent … his homelessness.
My fury seeped rapidly into hopelessness and helplessness. There are so many battles to fight right now. It’s hard to know what to do as a citizen that will make a difference. And yet, there are ways to help, and foremost is arming ourselves with information. We need to know what we can do, who we can turn to, what actually helps.My fury seeped rapidly into hopelessness and helplessness. There are so many battles to fight right now. It’s hard to know what to do as a citizen that will make a difference. And yet, there are ways to help, and foremost is arming ourselves with information. We need to know what we can do, who we can turn to, what actually helps.
And we need to turn to each other. Which is how, with the help and support of friends, I was able to channel my grief into something positive: an event called Sod This (for a laugh)!, to raise awareness and a good bit of money for two charities working to combat rough sleeping.And we need to turn to each other. Which is how, with the help and support of friends, I was able to channel my grief into something positive: an event called Sod This (for a laugh)!, to raise awareness and a good bit of money for two charities working to combat rough sleeping.
I turned to Streetlink when I was first concerned that Paddy was missing. It’s a website, mobile phone app and phone service that enables the public to alert local authorities in England and Wales about rough sleepers in their neighbourhood. It is the first step someone can take to ensure rough sleepers are connected to the local services, accommodation and support available to them. The Connection at St-Martin-in-the-Fields supports homeless people as they try to move away from the streets towards leading independent lives. Their initiative #OneGoodThing gives tips and advice for the #OneGoodThing you can do to raise money towards their work. And there are, of course, gazillions of other charities doing excellent work. But finding and focusing on two helps me keep moving.I turned to Streetlink when I was first concerned that Paddy was missing. It’s a website, mobile phone app and phone service that enables the public to alert local authorities in England and Wales about rough sleepers in their neighbourhood. It is the first step someone can take to ensure rough sleepers are connected to the local services, accommodation and support available to them. The Connection at St-Martin-in-the-Fields supports homeless people as they try to move away from the streets towards leading independent lives. Their initiative #OneGoodThing gives tips and advice for the #OneGoodThing you can do to raise money towards their work. And there are, of course, gazillions of other charities doing excellent work. But finding and focusing on two helps me keep moving.
Sod This (for a laugh)! would have blown Paddy’s mind; he would have been shocked as well as delighted that we had created this for him. I hope it will arm others with the means to do something more than simply walking past his son Patrick and all the daughters and sons of others.Sod This (for a laugh)! would have blown Paddy’s mind; he would have been shocked as well as delighted that we had created this for him. I hope it will arm others with the means to do something more than simply walking past his son Patrick and all the daughters and sons of others.
• Sod This (for a laugh)! is at Conway Hall, London WC1 on Thursday 9 March at 7.30pm, featuring Sara Pascoe, The Showstoppers improvised musical troupe, The Ruby Dolls, the choir of St Martin-in-the-Fields and many more. More details are available here • Sod This (for a laugh)! is at Conway Hall, London WC1 on Thursday 9 March at 7.30pm, featuring Sara Pascoe, The Showstoppers improvised musical troupe, The Ruby Dolls, the choir of St Martin-in-the-Fields and many more. More details are available here and you can follow the event on Twitter