So yesterday I’m driving around town doing my usual ghetto-run. A ghetto-run involves doing inspections of mostly run down property in some of the most run down neighborhoods in the metro Atlanta area. While most of the time these ghetto-runs are uneventful, I sometimes encounter situations and/or people that make me think about the state of things overall. Yesterday I met Ms. Turner.
Driving down the industrial/deserted areas around Jonesboro Road in southeast Atlanta I saw her walking her bike alongside the littered road. I turned on a side road to inspect a house and up she pulls panting from riding her bike. She said hi and asked to speak with me for a moment, extended her hand with caked on grime to shake mine. I finished opening the door and shook her hand while she proceeded to tell me I looked familiar. I asked her what it was she needed to speak to me about and she proceeded to offer her services saying she didn’t care if I asked her to wash a car, sweep a driveway, clean something -she just needed a $1.50 for a can of milk for her kid. I hardly, if ever, carry cash so I told I was sorry since it wasn’t my house, didn’t live around there and could offer her neither cash nor employment. She said even change would do since “you have to start somewhere.” She also said that one day she started with .13c and ended up with $22- I guess that was a good day.
I rummaged in my car and purse and ended up with about .73c. While looking for change she told me she had nine kids. WTF? was my first thought. She proceeded to say she had her own four and her sister’s five kids, her sister currently at the Grady in a comma from a heart attack or something. She also mentioned that the house was more quiet now that there were nine kids than when there were only four. She thinks it’s because they have someone to play with now. She said it was hot out there on that bike trying to get enough money to feed her kids. She thanked me, got on her bike and rode off waving to the next door neighbor who simply looked at her without waving back. I wondered who was looking after her kid(s) that needed the can of milk while she was out there pedaling in the heat collecting the money to buy it.
Driving down the industrial/deserted areas around Jonesboro Road in southeast Atlanta I saw her walking her bike alongside the littered road. I turned on a side road to inspect a house and up she pulls panting from riding her bike. She said hi and asked to speak with me for a moment, extended her hand with caked on grime to shake mine. I finished opening the door and shook her hand while she proceeded to tell me I looked familiar. I asked her what it was she needed to speak to me about and she proceeded to offer her services saying she didn’t care if I asked her to wash a car, sweep a driveway, clean something -she just needed a $1.50 for a can of milk for her kid. I hardly, if ever, carry cash so I told I was sorry since it wasn’t my house, didn’t live around there and could offer her neither cash nor employment. She said even change would do since “you have to start somewhere.” She also said that one day she started with .13c and ended up with $22- I guess that was a good day.
I rummaged in my car and purse and ended up with about .73c. While looking for change she told me she had nine kids. WTF? was my first thought. She proceeded to say she had her own four and her sister’s five kids, her sister currently at the Grady in a comma from a heart attack or something. She also mentioned that the house was more quiet now that there were nine kids than when there were only four. She thinks it’s because they have someone to play with now. She said it was hot out there on that bike trying to get enough money to feed her kids. She thanked me, got on her bike and rode off waving to the next door neighbor who simply looked at her without waving back. I wondered who was looking after her kid(s) that needed the can of milk while she was out there pedaling in the heat collecting the money to buy it.
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