PLEASE MEET JAMMIE:
It’s a hot day in Seattle. The sun pounds on tents and trash in the industrial zone. The air smells of diesel and musty rubbage. Trains and trucks thunder by and sirens blast as the post-COVID pace picks up in the Jet City. I hadn’t seen my friends around here in a while.
A sweating bald man sits on a Radio Shack speaker. His hands are black with dirt and grease. He’s working on a purple glitter stingray bike with a plastic Star Wars figure on the handle bars. “Who lives around here?” I asked. “A black guy named Whitey, Andor, Man Hands Kim and Blandy. Oh, and there’s a pregnant gal in the RV over there.” He squinted in the sun, pointing his crescent wrench. “Jammie?” I asked. “Yeah, I think so.” A good day was in store. All old friends. A big mouth shirtless guy in a pickup sped by recklessly. He flipped us off while shouting fuck-you to the long line of tents. I knew I was in the right place.
I anticipated Jammie’s upbeat greeting and hug. Her positivity and peace sign. But no answer as I knocked on the funky old RV. I pulled the sun-bleached drape aside at the open window and looked in. I felt the heat escape. An uncomfortable pregnant woman lay awkwardly on the floor. “What do you need Jammie?” Without motion or eye contact she whispered, “A large Oreo shake.” “That’s all?” I asked.
We met Jammie four years ago. She was taking care of her partner at the time, who was badly burned in an encampment fire. You may remember her. She has appeared in stories here a couple times. She has lived many places since, enduring long winters and ravaging sweeps. Surviving under tarps, tents, and bridges, Jammie asks for nothing. Maybe a little food sometimes. Once a bra and some socks. She mostly likes to visit. To hang out. She enjoys the company of good people. She likes dressing up. Makeup and jewelry.
Jammie lives a rough life but you wouldn’t know it from her appearance or attitude. When I returned with the shake and some chicken strips she lit up with the familiar smile and attitude. “I’m off hard drugs.” She said. And Jammie can’t lie to us. We know her too well. We know what Jammie looks like when she’s doing drugs. And when she is not. And today Jammie looks good. But tired and hot.
I felt pretty good after talking with Jammie, Andor, and a few others. Jammie smiled and flashed her trademark peace sign as I drove off. I looked back and waved as I almost hit the guy on the purple stingray bike as he swerved around the street making road adjustments.
We expect Jammie to be taken in by a shelter for homeless mothers when her baby girl arrives in October, but she will have many needs. We would like to raise $1800 to help her along with the many things she will need as a new mom.
Funds are used by Facing Homelessness to procure this ask. No funds will go directly to Jammie and no funds go to Facing Homelessness. If there are funds remaining, they will go to another person who is in need.
Georgetown Neighborhood | Damian
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