Alan

 Good morning and welcome.  Let me tell you a true story.

 A couple of days ago I was working in the office in the early afternoon along with Marria, our office manager.  The day was quiet and I was working on a future Bible class lesson and catching up on some reading.

I noticed that the outside office door bell had rung, which wasn't unusual.  Most deliveries, church members, and others come to that door in order to be let in or conduct some kind of business.  Marria answered the door via telephone, then came to my office telling me that a man was at the door wanting to use the phone.  She asked if I might know the man.

I went to the door and opened it to a man I didn’t know who was clean, but rather rough-looking.  I'll call him Alan.  I asked Alan what he needed, and he explained that he needed to use the phone to call his parole officer.  He said he had been to the library, city hall, the county courthouse, the jail, and a couple of churches.  No one would let him use the phone.

Alan said he had just been released from El Dorado corrections early that morning, and was supposed to report to his parole officer in Salina, but had missed his bus connection to Salina.  He needed to contact his officer to let her know where he was.

I don't know how I make these decisions, but in that 45 or so second conversation, I determined he was probably safe, and let him in to the outer office where there are chairs and an end table.  We have an older-style portable phone connected to our system that someone like Alan can use, so I got it for him.

He had several papers with him, along with a boarding pass for the Beeline bus  from Wichita to Salina...the bus had left at shortly after 8am that day.  There were several numbers on those papers, so we tried calling the ones we thought would be helpful.  One was in Topeka.  One in Salina.  One in Wichita, and a couple of others were on those papers as well.  The Salina number was the best option, but no one answered the phone.  Other numbers resulted in either voicemail or being put in a, “Press 2 for …., Press 3 for..., and so on.”  None of them yielded any help.

While Alan and I were trying to formulate our next move, I asked if he would like something to eat.  We have some snack-type food in the office, so I gave him some of that and some water.  He also needed the restroom.  Sometimes even the restroom is a blessing.

It seemed obvious to me that the gentleman was really trying to do the right thing by contacting his parole officer.  While we were working with the phone and numbers, I found out that Alan was taken from El Dorado corrections early in the day and dropped off at the Wichita bus station...the OLD bus station that now sits empty.  Alan wasn't from Wichita, had never been here, and had no clue where he was to go or what he was to do.  He had no idea where the new bus station was, so he began to wander the streets downtown asking for help or a phone.  He received no help that he told me about.

So, later in the day, just a couple of blocks from the library, Alan found RiverWalk Church.  His bus had left hours ago, and he was no longer needing to get to the bus terminal, but rather had to contact his parole officer if possible.  We continued to try numbers, and eventually re-dialed the Salina number.  The Salina parole officer who Alan was supposed to report to answered the phone this time.

Alan tried to explain the situation to her.  However, as he was missing several teeth, his speech wasn't clear.  I suggested to Alan that I visit with the parole officer.  He agreed and handed me the phone.  After explaining who I was and what the situation with Alan was, she got her supervisor, putting him on speaker phone.  I also put our phone on speaker so Alan could hear us all.  While we were talking, the supervisor tried to contact the Wichita parole office, but was unsuccessful.  They suggested that we hang up while they continue to try to find a solution for Alan, who had no place to go that night and no way to get to Salina.

A few minutes later, the Wichita parole office called us and said that they would be picking Alan up and taking him to the Rescue Mission for the night.  The Salina parole office then called back a couple of minutes later telling me they had contacted the Wichita parole office.  They told me the same thing and further explained that they had arranged for someone to get Alan the next morning and take him to Salina.  They also spoke directly to Alan, telling him about the arrangements.

In a few minutes two parole officers came to the church and got Alan.  He took his leftover snacks and went to their car.  I followed him, thanked the officers for their service, shook Alan's hand, gave him a side hug, and he departed with them.

I will tell you that I was unable by church policy to take Alan to the mission.  I cannot give someone a ride that I do not know, for obvious safety reasons.  I will say that Curtis, our lead minister, told me while I was waiting for the Salina parole office to call back that he and I could both go to the mission with Alan as a passenger if needed.  I agreed, but suggested we allow the parole office to find a solution if at all possible.  And they did.

There are some takeaways about this story I'd like to share.

First, why did they drop Alan off at an empty, dark, and obviously vacated building that used to be a bus terminal?  What kind of person does that?

Second, Alan should have been able to have visited with a live person who could have provided real help and assurance after just a couple of phone calls.  That was not the case, and his frustration was evident.

Third, why was it so difficult for Alan to find a phone he could use?  Why were those he encountered while he wandered the streets of Wichita not more helpful?

 

Obviously, I don't have the answers to these questions, and it all seemed to work out in the end.  Once we were able to speak to a live person, things starting moving and Alan was taken care of.

I guess my other question would be, what would Alan have done had we not opened our door to him and let him use the phone?  What if I hadn't assured the Salina parole officer of Alan's desire to do the right thing?  What if he had been left to navigate this situation on his own?

I don't know what he was in prison for.  I didn't ask and he didn't volunteer.  He was, however, obviously grateful for our help.  And I'm grateful we were there to help, thanks to the RiverWalk congregation who finances the office and the staff through the weekly collection.  May we always glorify God in our dealings with others.