August 6: Buy a Burger, Make A Difference

Hello LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers:

A few weeks ago I posted a link to an article on "The Wise Guy Diaries" entitled "Next Time You Think `I Don't Like Cops.'"  I was incredibly moved by the well-written article about police officers who answer the call to help with bravery and heroism - and also those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.  

One story shared in "The Wise Guys Diaries" article was about Officer Jeremy Henwood, age 36.  He stopped at McDonald's on August 6th to purchase dinner before his night shift.  There was a young boy in the restaurant and Officer Henwood purchased food for him as well.  An act of kindness from a police officer to a member of the community he worked in.  

Later that evening six blocks from the McDonald's, a man pulled up along side Officer Henwood who was sitting in his vehicle.  Unprovoked, the man shot Officer Henwood with a shotgun at close range.  He died later that night from his injuries.

The story resonated with me because I do believe our lives, no matter how many years in length, are relatively short.  How do we wish to spend our lives?  How do we wish to be remembered?  What should we do while we are on Earth?  If we can help other people, shouldn't we?  I believe that even the smallest acts of kindness can make a difference in another person's life.  And frankly what is a small act to one person may be the whole world to another.

I was recently in New Orleans' French Quarter.  Each day while out shopping and sightseeing, I would walk by a young woman - maybe 19 years old at most.  She looked like an attractive suburban teenager of privilege, but she was dressed in rags, filthy and had a cardboard sign asking for food.  I would walk by her and wonder what brought her to the streets panhandling.  In my "lofty perch of judgment," I assumed it was drugs that led her on to the streets.  I didn't give her any money and I noticed no one else around me did either.  

By the third day in New Orleans, I was having an extremely delicious and quite expensive lunch at a very nice restaurant.  I sat near a window and watched talented street musicians singing in harmony with a little Motown-style twirly dance step.  A small crowd had gathered to watch the singers.  

From my window seat, I saw a tall, emaciated, older African-American man.  He looked at least sixty-five years old.  He did not have a shirt on, only a neon yellow construction vest.  I could see his rib bones prominently through his dehydrated skin.  It was 91 degrees and stifling outside.  The gentleman walked slowly through the crowd asking for money and every person turned away from him.  

After spending several days in the French Quarter, I quickly recognized most of the homeless who hung out near my hotel.  However I had never seen this man before.  I felt an overwhelming compulsion that I had to get this man some food and do it NOW.  I think it was because the gentleman looked "so close to the edge."  He didn't look like he could last long in the heat and the conditions.  I didn't know if he was an alcoholic, a drug addict, mentally ill or had simply fallen on financial devastation.  But what I did feel in my heart is that this man's time would run out soon without assistance.

I ordered some food to go from the restaurant and kept my eye on the gentleman through the window.  I paid my check as I watched him heading down the street.  I got up quickly and sprinted out the restaurant with the take out bag of food in hand.  I looked in the direction the gentleman had been walking in and did not see him.  Where did he go?  He was walking so slowly.  How could I have lost him?  I kept scanning the sidewalks, but no sign of the gentleman. 

The French Quarter is not a large place, so I started walking down the streets and checking at each corner for the homeless man.  I spent half an hour walking all around but he was gone - vanished.  I finally stopped back at the corner where I first started my search, food in hand.  I couldn't believe I couldn't find him.  I was so certain that I needed to help this man that I couldn't grasp that I had failed in my mission.

I then looked across the street and there was the young girl I had seen several times before in the previous days.  The girl I believed was probably begging money for drugs or was "slumming it" on the streets escaping a prior life of privilege.  But who was I to determine this?  Why was I compelled to give food to the older, emaciated gentleman but so determined not to assist the younger girl?

I know this will sound odd, but I felt like the older man had been an apparition leading me to someone who needed my help.  I had spent all this time searching for the older man and yet here was someone right in front of me who also needed my help.  Why was I reluctant to give it?  

I walked up to the girl and then kept walking.  I stopped about fifteen feet away from her and then turned around, walking directly toward her.  She was hunched over, sitting on a low ledge in front of the Louisiana Supreme Court building.  I wasn't sure if she was asleep or awake.  I approached her and she raised her head up so slowly I felt like she had invisible weights tied to her neck.  

I handed the bag with food from the restaurant to her in one hand and in the other hand, I held out a twenty dollar bill that I had wanted to give to the emaciated older gentleman.  I could see the layers of dirt caked on her hands and feet.  And I wondered how difficult it must be to be a young, attractive woman alone asking for money on the streets of the French Quarter when most of the passerby are intoxicated and in many cases, looking for debauchery.  

The young woman's eyes popped out as she stared at the money in my hand.  She looked at me speechless for a second.  The look said "Is this a joke?" and then sizing me up to see if there was some catch behind my offer.  I extended my hand and pushed the twenty dollar bill into her hand. 

She quickly thanked me.  Her voice was very formal, again making me think that she came from an educated, at least somewhat privileged background.  I said a prayer hoping that she would use the money for food or something productive - not drugs and alcohol and then I left.

I never saw the older, emaciated gentleman again on that day or on any of my remaining days in New Orleans.

After returning to Tampa, I received a very nice email from the author of "The Wise Guys Diaries."  He thanked me for posting a link to his website on LilyOnTheLam.com.  He also wanted to let me know that in honor of Officer Jeremy Henwood and all fallen Police Officers, this August 6th would be "Buy A Burger" day - asking people to buy a burger for a stranger in need like Officer Jeremy Henwood did on the last day of his life.  

I wanted to pass along this information and encourage readers to take part in this effort on August 6th to honor Officer Jeremy Henwood and other Police Officers and First Responders who have given their lives in service.

However, I also understand that people may be reluctant to buy a stranger a burger.  Or they may feel that this is not a tangible way to truly honor fallen police officers.  So with no offense intended toward "The Wise Guy Diaries," I also offer the following ways to consider helping if you do not want to buy a burger for a stranger on August 6th.

Donations to Officer Henwood's Memorial Fund

Feeding America Tampa Bay - donate or volunteer

Tampa Police Memorial Fund 

No Kid Hungry

Blessings In A Backpack


Life is short and the number of people who could use a helping hand is large.  Even the smallest act of kindness can help change a life.  Over half a million people have read the article on "The Wise Guy Diaries" and there have been social media clicks on the link from people in over 150 countries.  Could you imagine what a difference could be made if each person who read the article did something on August 6th to honor Officer Henwood?  Small acts of kindness from many people can create a tidal wave of change.

So whether you buy a stranger a hamburger, volunteer your time to your community or donate money to a worthwhile cause, I hope you will take part in the August 6th event to honor Officer Jeremy Henwood.  

Thank you for reading!