Day: -10 Wee Willy's Wipeout

Back in the days before I learned what conferences were really for, I used to think that being chosen to go to one was an indication that your career was really going places. I know better now.

On the morning of my first ever work sponsored conference attendance, I stopped in at the shelter to pick up some promotional material to take with me. As I came in the building, Willy came out of the first floor sleeping area at full steam.

Up to that day, we didn't really get along very well. I never did learn the nickname he gave me, but I am sure it was not complimentary. SO, as he burst through the door to the dorm, I thought he had finally decided to take his animosity to the next level.

With a mighty "Hey-yah!" he lunged forward two steps and then dropped face forward onto the floor. From my new perspective on his situation I could see right away what the problem was. The back of his trench coat was a dark, stick red and there was a trail of blood leading back to the door.

If you've ever been in that type of situation, you know what happens next. If you have never been there I can't begin to do justice to the organized chaos that followed. Suffice to say 9-1-1 was called and first aid was administered.

As I peeled away the blood soaked clothes, I could see that the bleeding was centered on his left buttock. Fortunately he was out cold at this point and so I was able to get his pants to half-mast and expose the wound. He had a 4" cut across his buttock that extended right to the bone. I could see the bone clearly and the muscle was flapping loosely whenever he was moved.

For the next ten minutes I held the two edges of the wound together in a narrow hallway with 50+ other residents passing up and down the stairs to get breakfast. Finally the ambulance arrived, took him under their care and off to the hospital he went.

My best guess is he had a bottle in his back pocket, fell over the night before and the broken glass cut him, but the pressure on the wound when he was sleeping stopped him from bleeding out overnight. The second most likely scenario was a stab from one of his many adversaries.

I scrubbed off the blood and went on to the conference.

Two days later I arrive for my next shift. Third man through the door is Willy. I think I am prepared for our regular nightly routine of expletives and threats as I check him over for any stashed booze. What I wasn't prepared for was a highly emotional Willy throwing his arm over my shoulder and announcing to all and sundry that we were best mates, hey-yah!. Something about that ten minutes with my hands on his ass made a change that lasted the rest of our years together.

Many years later I would learn the secret after a memorable struggle with another old-timer, Joe O.