The request of a homeless man: “I want proof that I’m here”

There are two kinds of stories: the ones you look for and the ones that look for you.

Every day at the Ledger-Enquirer, we get a lot of the first kind. But the trick to getting the second kind is to keep watching and listening after you think you’ve found what you’re looking for. That’s how you get deeper, richer stories.

On Wednesday morning, Mike Haskey, our photo chief, went to the SafeHouse at Rose Hill United Methodist Church, a ministry providing breakfast and lunch to the homeless every day.

Mike was looking for the story that SafeHouse was offering overnight shelter, including dinner, to the homeless during this record-setting cold spell.

Charles Jeffries, the manager, went on camera and did a nice job of explaining who, what, when, where, why and how.

Mission accomplished. Mike had a busy day ahead and was leaving for another assignment when a homeless man stopped Mike and asked him to take his picture.

“I want proof that I’m here,” the man said.

Did he want to document that he was here at the SafeHouse in Columbus, Ga., on March 15, 2017?

Or did he want people to know he exists here on planet Earth and he deserves to be noticed and appreciated?

Or did he want to convince himself of his own existence, of who he is and why he is here?

Mike didn’t know. So he lifted his camera and started working. That’s how he rolls.

A native of Saginaw, Mich., Mike joined the Ledger-Enquirer staff nearly 30 years ago at age 23. He’s since won countless awards covering nearly everything and everybody in town, but he’s less recognizable than reporters such as Chuck Williams and Tim Chitwood. In fact, Mike says some people have introduced themselves to him dozens of times over the years.

That’s the nature of his work. “I’m the guy with the camera,” he says. “If I do my job well, you don’t know who I am.”

Instead of trying to get noticed, Mike tries to capture images and understand things.

That’s what he did on Wednesday.

The homeless man’s name was Trevis Sistrunk. Around his neck, he wore his toothbrush, a whistle, a cigarette lighter and other necessities.

Trevis wanted Mike to photograph him next to the SafeHouse sign, next to a bike, with a bug in a flower, and next to a dumpster.

Mike asked Trevis if it was tough for him to survive in cold weather. “It’s learning, that’s what it is,” Trevis said. “It’s all about the struggle.”

Trevis jumped into the dumpster and started grabbing things. You can see it on the video.

He found copper wire that could be sold for money. He found a plastic bag that could serve as protection from the elements. He found a box of perfectly good scallions that could make a meal, or be planted in a field to yield future meals. He found two wooden slats that formed a cross.

In the dumpster, Trevis was teaching a survival class. He was creating performance art. He was in the spotlight, proving he was here. And then he was done.

Mike came back to the newsroom and showed me the raw video. It felt like a story, but we weren’t sure what it was.

For Mike, Trevis’ humanity rang true and added to the already complicated and complex story of homelessness in the Chattahoochee Valley, an ongoing story that we’ve only just started telling.

It’s a story none of us wants to see, but it finds us, with its maddening mix of hope and heartbreak.

This story was originally published March 17, 2017 at 4:06 PM with the headline "The request of a homeless man: “I want proof that I’m here”."