Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Happy New Year? Remembering a friend

I would have preferred to start off this year with something more fun. Instead...

I was deeply saddened to learn that someone "in our family" passed away Sunday. Rodney Hetzell was part of our church family at the First United Methodist Church Food Pantry. I have known Rodney for nearly as long as I have been a volunteer at our church (seven years in February).

Not only was he a faithful helper at the pantry, but he regularly attended church services, often talking about one of Pastor Mary Hubbard's homilies.

Rodney deeply cared for the disadvantaged and disenfranchised. I sincerely doubt he would have considered himself disadvantaged. Why else would a homeless person work so diligently for others?

Rodney was 51 years old--and homeless (but still found it in his heart to help the pantry). He was a bundle of energy. I don't know of what Rodney died but I am guessing his inner demons (alcohol) finally overtook him. He just could not escape the drink.


Rodney stopped by the church a few days before his death looking for a place to stay. In the end, he was able to secure a stay at a local shelter for one night only. He recently mentioned he had slept on the streets one night last week.

I will remember his sense of humor. One of his favorite things to do was when he, Maggie and I went to the Northern Indiana Food Bank for our weekly purchases was to find some extraordinarily odd item. One week it would seaweed pasta, the next pigs' feet, or some other odious food item, knowing full well the items might end up on our shelves for weeks before some brave soul would take them.

I kid you not that he found something odd every single week... and he would laugh his head off about it. He delighted in this and with it, we laughed too.

Rodney and I both worked for the county election boards. We had some interesting debates, with affectionate jabs at each other's political leanings.

Recently, Rodney broke his foot. He blamed it on his clumsiness but we all knew it was because he had drunk himself into a stupor. Many of us, Maggie, in particular, did everything we could to wean him off the drink, but as we all know, only the victim can do this--and they have to want it badly enough to do it.

He never got over the loss of his parents with whom he was close. Rodney had one estranged brother in Pittsburgh but they had not had anything to do with each other for years.

I weep knowing Rodney was all alone here (aside from his friends) and sadly, he was probably alone when he died.

Rodney may have been homeless, but his keen intellect and curiosity were boundless. Often I would find him looking at books or on a computer at the downtown library.

This morning at the pantry, we took a few moments to remember him. We all are saddened and mourn him most deeply.

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