100 strangers - # - Jeff Vaillancourt (vaillancourtphotography)'s Photos

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I've been working up the courage to begin a 100 Stranger project. Last night it began with Mark Anthony (Tony to his friends). Tony is 44 years old. He's homeless in Austin, living in the nearby "woods". While I could smell the faint odor of alchohol, Tony seemed sober and coherent. Over the course of our conversation Tony mentioned owning 2 bars and a plumbing business...all lost to a crack addiction. Tony has been off crack for 5 years now, but shamefully mentioned an alcohol addiction. I told him I thought he was doing just fine, and sometimes you just do what you can.
Have you ever had a sweaty homeless man give you a hug on a 95 degree evening? It warms the heart and touches your soul.

Tony showed me a busted knuckle. "Fight?" I asked. "Yes", he told me, "with a man of my own race". Tony mentioned being afraid to go back to where he'd been sleeping because this guy had a hatchett.

He is my 1st stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers: www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

Meet Patrick, Stranger #6 in my 100 Strangers Project.

I've noticed Patrick on the same corner over the past few months that I'd been visiting 6th Street. He seems quiet and mellow. Always playing a guitar. I actually took a shot of Partrick the night before I shot this one. I walked by he had his mask pulled down and was inbetween songs. I asked him if I could take a picture and he said "Sure, why not.". I took the shot, thanked him and walked away, but made a mental note to revisit him as Patrick seemed friendly and at ease with me taking the shot.

This particular evening I walked by Patrick and noticed the mask propped up on his forehead. I started the conversation by thanking him for letting me take his picture the night before. I shook his hand and we introduced ourselves. Then I sat down on the planter next to him and we started chatting. Right off Patrick seemed well spoken, intelligent and good natured. I didn't smell alcohol or get the impression that he was under the influence of anything.

I asked Patrick if he was homeless, he is. He pointed out a mountain bike parked behind him that had everything he owned on it. I asked Patrick where he was originally from and he told me Weatherford, Texas.

Over the course of the conversation Patrick told me that he'd been in Texas, but moved to Oklahoma with a woman who needed to get away from a bad crowd she'd been hanging out with. Patrick stayed in Oklahoma for about two years, but came back to Weatherford, Texas when his relationship broke up. He lived with his sister in Weatherford, but moved out when they started butting heads. He's been on the streets ever since.

Patrick told me he used to work concrete and was an electrician, but he has liver problems and a skin condition that prevents him from being in the sun.

You'll find Patrick sitting on the corner of 6th and Brazos Street. Right outside of a sports bar called Logan's on Sixth. Patrick was proud of his relationship with the employees in Logan's. He said they'll occasionally give him water on hot days, etc. I know they're doing that because he's a decent guy and not a nuisance.

He was also proud of his beard, saying sometimes people ask him if they can take a picture of his beard. I'd have to agree….it's a magnificent beard.

I don't like pointing out when I've given money to strangers. I don't always, but sometimes I will if it's a decent person and I feel driven to do so. I'll usually keep some singles in my pocket to give out if I feel the urge. With Patrick it was different. He didn't ask me for money and I could tell that he was really a decent person. Staying low key I pulled a $20 from my wallet and slipped it to him. Patrick's reaction was that of disbelief. He asked me, "Are you sure?". That's the kind of guy Patrick is. A humble, nice man.

I guess in my mind I think about it and wonder how many bad choices or how much bad luck would it take for me to be out on the streets. Or any of us really. At those moments I feel for guys like Richard.

He is my 6th stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers:

www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

He is my 1st stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers: www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

Meet Don, Stranger #3 in my 100 Strangers Project.

I watched Don for a while before approaching him. He was entertaining. He'd sit in this doorway watching people walk by on the 6th Street sidewalk and crack up laughing, make faces, overall just having a great time. Most people didn't notice him or just plain ignored him. I snapped pictures.

I finally approached Don and asked if I could take his picture. He agreed. I stood across from him and snapped this shot and about 8 more. When finished I thanked Don and he said that will be $1 per picture. Then he laughed.

I typically won't write or discuss giving money to someone in need because I think it takes away from the act of giving. That's between me, the person I've given to, and the Man upstairs. Well, this time it plays into my story. I had a $10 and needed change to give Don a couple bucks. I walked over to a food cart and asked for change for a $10. The owner, Marco, (who'll you'll hear about in another Stranger post), nicely told me, "No, I won't support their drug habit." I offered to buy a water, but he still declined. I asked him if it was that bad, Marco said it was. Crack is the drug and Don had a big problem with it. Marco told me he used to give guys like Don spare change to help them out, but these guys didn't want change because the drug dealers won't take it. They only want bills. So, in the case of Don, Marco would give him a bottled water because it was so hot out. He did that until he saw Don selling the water bottles on the street to get money to buy drugs, (instead of drinking it himself).

I went back and sat down with Don for a while longer. Don is 47 years old and is originally from California. In fact, he went to school in Thousand Oaks where I grew up. Later in life Don moved to Oregon. Things got sketchy then and he stopped talking. His mood was somber and the humor was gone. I asked if Don if he was okay, he told me he was thinking about what he was going to say. Then he told me he didn't want to talk about it. That was it for the Oregon portion of his life. Don did mention being in Austin for the past several years.

Don was a nice guy and I enjoyed talking to him. In the end he asked me if he could go buy a beer and he'd bring me the change. He said I could trust him. I gave Don the $10 and he walked away. Now, I knew I probably wouldn't see him again, but I really wanted to know if Don would return with my change. Besides, wouldn't that make a wonderful ending to my story? I thought it would. I love a heart warming ending.

Well, Don never returned. It was no surprise, but I was betting that he would.

He is my 3rd stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers:
www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

Meet Christopher King, Stranger #2 in my 100 Strangers project. Across the street from ARCH (Austin Resource Center for the Homeless) I walked by Christopher and he asked me if I knew the downtown Austin area. I told him I was fairly new to Austin and didn't. I asked Christopher if he was on the streets, shamefully he said he had been for 4 days now. "This ain't me." he said. (At this point Christopher hadn't told me his name, nor had I asked.) He asked me "Do you pray?" Thinking this was taking a turn towards Christopher trying to save my soul I said, "Well, yes, but that's kind of a private matter." He looked me in the eye and said, "My name is Christopher King, and I'd appreciate it if you'd remember my name and pray for me when you do." I silently chastised myself.

I could see that Christopher was struggling with being on the streets of downtown Austin, so I mentioned growing up in California and the reasons for my moving to Fort Worth and then to Austin. It wasn't a hard luck story, just my story is all. Christopher mentioned having grown up in, (and just four days ago), leaving McKinney, Texas. Over the course of the conversation Christopher mentioned being a Marine and having served in Mogadishu, Somalia. Christopher told me he has since suffered from seizures and PTS (Post Traumatic Syndrome). Christopher never mentioned anything beyond that, but if you've ever seen Black Hawk Down it's not hard to imagine what he may have been through. I sincerely thanked Christopher for his service to our country. He didn't acknowledge my comment, so I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. As we talked Christopher mentioned liking California. He said he'd been stationed in Camp Pendleton and rattled off enough training terms and acronyms for me to know he had served this country. When he finished talking I thanked him again for his service to our country. Christopher softly said, "I wish my Dad felt that way." In my mind's eye, I see a son who'd served this country, but just couldn't get his life back on track, and a father who had lost his patience. I see the frustration of a son who'd rather live on the streets, (with nothing more than a backpack and a ball cap), than to continue living in his hometown of McKinney, Texas. I wonder where life will take him. As I've grown older I've seen how one simple decision can dramatically alter the course of our lives. Will the father and the son ever look back with regret? The truth is I have no what happened. I didn't ask. I didn't pry. I did pray for Christopher King last night and I will do so again.

He is my 2nd stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers: www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

STRANGER #8

Meet Mr. Trip, Stranger #8 in my 100 Strangers Project.

I met Mr. Trip on 6th Street during the Halloween weekend. Mr. Trip was holding a battered 5 gallon bucket and the base of an aluminum crutch he was using as a drumstick. When I first started talking to Mr. Trip he was giving me his street-hustle routine, but it didn't take me long to get past Mr. Trip and get to know Troy Petrie, aka Mr. Trip.

Troy was drunk, and smelled of alcohol, but he was pleasant and happy. I started our conversation by asking Troy if he was on the streets. He was. As Mr. Trip he told me he had been married and had two children, but his downfall had been chasing a certain part of the female anatomy. Still in hustle mode, Mr. Trip told me he "Only weighed a buck-sixty, but wanted to be loved like Genghis Khan." I took this to mean that, while he was a small man, he wasn't afraid of a big woman lovin' on him.

It was after the Genghis Khan routine that Mr. Trip opened up and told me his real name was Troy Petrie. He actually went to the extent of showing me his driver's license. It seemed like he wanted me to believe him and understand that he was being honest with me. Troy's vice is crack cocaine. It's been his downfall, but at this point in time he was not using. I asked how long it'd been since he'd used. Troy thought about it and then told me that I could track it on the page of a calendar. I assumed it had only been a few days, or even a couple of weeks, but no longer. I told Troy he should feel good about that and that's when he hugged me.

Troy went on to tell me that he was 37 years old. He used to have a nicely decorated 5 gallon bucket and a set of drum sticks, but they were stolen and now all he had was this battered 5 gallon bucket and the tail end of a crutch to play drums with and hustle money on 6th Street.

Troy mentioned that he had a girlfriend who was a gorgeous French-Indian woman. He spoke highly of her, and then mentioned that she was currently in rehab. Troy told me he was also working hard to get her stuff out of a local pawn shop and surprise her with it when she got out of rehab. I didn't get the whole story, but it sounded like they went on an extended bender together and lost everything. Somehow she ended up in rehab and he didn't. I do know that Troy wanted her back. I got the impression that she was his inspiration to stay off drugs.

After that we parted ways with a hand shake and a hug. Since then I've been back to 6th Street several times, but never have seen Mr. Trip/Troy Petrie again. I hope he reunited with his gorgeous French-Indian woman and she's lovin' him like Genghis Khan.

He is my 7th stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers:

www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

Meet upcoming strangers for my 100 Strangers Project: Izzy (left) and Kristy (center), who are a couple. Don (right - already featured as Stranger #3).

When shooting I try to get pictures/moments that give you a glimpse into the person in front of the camera. Every once in a while it'll happen. This night, this shot, it did.

Izzy: Mellow, humble and cool, but with a moody, violent undercurrent you won't see in this shot.

Kristy: Smiling and laughing. Always smiling and laughing.

Don: Class clown. Period.

All three were sitting upright as we talked. I asked to take a shot and Don instantly went into his drunken-sleeping-street-bum routine. Kristy gently put her hand on Don's cheek, smiled and laughed. Izzy, mellow and cool, looked down with a slight smile.

Three people living on the streets. Three stories. A quick shot. A moment in time. A sampling of what was, is and could be. Past, present and a possible future all wrapped up in one sliver of time.

Don's story:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/vailncourt/6203619706/in/set-72157627655653009

100 Strangers Project:

http://www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

Meet Popsicle, Stranger #5 in my 100 Strangers Project.

When arriving on 6th Street I like to take my time, look around, and get a feel for what's going on. It can be intimidating at first, but once I start shooting I'm fine.

Popsicle's sign grabbed my attention right away. I laughed and asked if I could take a shot. He gave me a toothless smile and said "sure". I took a couple snaps and then told him I thought that was a pretty good gig. "Does it work?" I asked. Again, toothless, "It has so far." He was all smiles. His crooked smile/smirk reminded me of the actor Sam Elliott. I took a liking to this guy instantly. I didn't get Popsicle's story, sometimes I'm content with a smile, a picture and a laugh.

I gave him a buck and told him I didn't want his advice. He laughed. I walked off down 6th Street trying to get the vibe for the evening. About 30 minutes later I walked past Popsicle again, he gave me that toothless, crooked, Sam Elliott smile and said, "I do the best I can." I think he was referring to his advice, not life in general or the reasons for him being on the street. Just plain old shitty advice. I guess that's all you could ask from a guy.

He is my 5th stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers:

www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

Meet Marco, Stranger #4 in my 100 Strangers Project.

I'd mentioned Marco in Stranger #3 with Don. Here's an excerpt: [http://www.flickr.com/photos/vailncourt/6203619706/] I had a $10 and needed change to give Don a couple bucks. I walked over to a food cart and asked for change for a $10. The owner, Marco, (who'll you'll hear about in another Stranger post), nicely told me, "No, I won't support their drug habit." I offered to buy a water, but he still declined. I asked him if it was that bad, Marco said it was. Crack is the drug and Don had a big problem with it. Marco told me he used to give guys like Don spare change to help them out, but these guys didn't want change because the drug dealers won't take it. They only want bills. So, in the case of Don, Marco would give him a bottled water because it was so hot out. He did that until he saw Don selling the water bottles on the street to get money to buy drugs, (instead of drinking it himself).

Imagine my awkwardness when Don (Stranger #3) had walked off with my $10, not returning, and I decide to buy a bottled water from Marco....only now with a $20- bill. (It was hot and I desperately thirsty.) I said, "Hey, I really want a bottle of water now, but all I have is a $20-. Will you let me buy one? You have my word I'm not looking for change to give out." Marco paused for a moment, reached into his cooler and handed me an icy, cold bottle of water. Smiling, Marco said, "You can just have it." I thanked Marco, and we started talking. I drank the water as we talked.

I neglected to ask Marco his age, but I'd put him in the 40-45 range. Marco is originally from San Antonio, but has spent time in San Francisco, and Chicago. Though he seems to like Austin best. ("Chicago got too cold.") Since Marco had lived in San Francisco I mentioned my thoughts of Austin being a city very similar to San Francisco, though with that Texas twist I have grown to love. (In my opinion, both San Francisco and Austin are very accepting of who you are and whatever you're in to.) Marco asked me if I'd ever been to Amsterdam, I haven't, surprisingly he's been there (6) times. Marco loves Amsterdam. I was tempted to ask him what his vice was, but didn't.

As we were talking an Asian man walked up and asked Marco for a napkin. A few minutes later a black man walked up and asked him for a bag to put his food in - food not purchased from Marco. After that a hispanic man came up and ordered a brisket taco - this guy appeared to be Marco's friend and I never saw money change hands. All this happened while I sipped the free bottle of water he gave me. I said, "Dude, you're giving everything away." Marco smiled, "It'll get busy." I asked him if he sold a lot of food. Marco said, "Yep, it's drunk-food. They love it. Plus most of my customers work in the bars here and buy food when they get off work."

I like this picture of Marco. I asked him for a shot and he instantly produced a thumbs-up and a smile. I didn't ask him to pose. I did take any other shots. This shot just felt like a good representation of Marco.

I really like Marco too. I think the world is a better place with Marco in it. I told him it was nice talking him. Marco told me to come back again and say "hello". I felt like I was standing in Marco's home or place of business, not on chaotic 6th Street with hundreds of strangers walking by. I'll be back to visit with Marco, and try one of those brisket tacos. Drunk-food or not, that brisket taco was looking good.

He is my 4th stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers:
www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/

I've been working up the courage to begin a 100 Stranger project. Last night it began with Mark Anthony (Tony to his friends). Tony is 44 years old. He's homeless in Austin, living in the nearby "woods". While I could smell the faint odor of alchohol, Tony seemed sober and coherent. Over the course of our conversation Tony mentioned owning 2 bars and a plumbing business...all lost to a crack addiction. Tony has been off crack for 5 years now, but shamefully mentioned an alcohol addiction. I told him I thought he was doing just fine, and sometimes you just do what you can.
Have you ever had a sweaty homeless man give you a hug on a 95 degree evening? It warms the heart and touches your soul.

Tony showed me a busted knuckle. "Fight?" I asked. "Yes", he told me, "with a man of my own race". Tony mentioned being afraid to go back to where he'd been sleeping because this guy had a hatchett.

He is my 1st stranger in the Flickr challenge to shoot photos of 100 strangers: http://www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/