Long Island Proud: 'It Was So Cold I Almost Died To Get Warm'

Most of my life I have been blessed, surrounded by a good family, great friends and a wonderful community. I spent a good part of life in semi-luxurious conditions. However this story is about a walk I took one New York City night waiting for the first LIRR train east out to Montauk.

At the time I was living in a rented room in a trailer at the trailer park in Ditch Plains, Montauk. It was the toughest part of my life but in many ways the best, too. I learned what was important and who were important to me. However this night I was in New York City and a situation left me with no other option but to get to the next LIRR train that would get to Montauk. At that moment in time I had very little money because I was writing articles for a local paper and in the winter I was lucky to get two or three assignments a week. My outside income from my past life was consumed by child support payments scheduled to catch up from a time when I was deadbeat negligent due to prolonged unemployment.

That night I had to walk for only two hours until the first train scheduled near 7 a.m. would disembark. I was staying somewhere with someone but her daughter called, woke us up, then showed up. She was very distraught and I chose to leave, even if it was 4 a.m.

At that time, subways were not running and cabs were changing shifts. So I elected to walk from the Upper East side down to Penn Station, down Park and Fifth Avenue, knowing that would be my safest route at that time.

After walking down Park Avenue from the low 80s to 58 St. I moved east to 5th Avenue. I remember the temperature was around 7 degrees with a very wicked cold wind. In those days homeless folks squatted in cardboard boxes at the steps of the Fifth Avenue churches along the upper 50s. I must admit that when in New York City, I walk fast, stay alert, and try not to stare at anyone or acknowledge anyone.

However, I did notice this one small box that had a tattered sleeping bag hanging out of it. The man inside startled me when he poked his head out the box causing an effect like a head coming out of a big turtle. His face was weathered, with whiskers and hair coming out of a beaten up lint covered wool cap with a small wool rim. He said, "Buddy, do you have a dollar or two?"

Normally, I try not to give money but in this case, now emotionally engaged at the sheer horror of what I was witnessing, I gave the man a few bucks. He looked at me and said the following in a very old and raspy voice, "Thanks. It was so I cold I almost died to get warm."

I started walking away, even faster, realizing how even within the thin line of existence I was balancing myself at I was still lucky. After switching trains at Jamaica Station I sat in the train very warm, very tired but reading a New York Times someone had left behind. When I reached Montauk I walked to my beat up white VW Cabrio, started it, and I drove home to the end of DeForrest Road and the trailers. When I opened the door everyone was still sleeping to the cadence of the winter ocean wind coming off the ocean, 436 steps from the trailer.

I write this today because I know right now in this cold spell there is someone homeless fighting not to die alone out in the cold — thinking dying may be the only option to get warm.

T.J. Clemente is a Patch columnist.

Photo courtesy T.J. Clemente.