Just past noon on Tuesday, the mercury was already pushing 90 degrees in Denver, with weather forecasters happily promising more punishment to come.
Max and Randall could believe it.
“Heat like this can break your spirit,” Max said. “Ain’t nothing to do on the street this time of day but find yourself some shade.”
Max and his friend Randall had retreated beneath a tree in Sonny Lawson Park at Welton Street and Park Avenue West. Homeless and sweltering, they awaited a break. Any break.
If you think the heat pounds your skull and fries your feet walking from air-conditioned car to air-conditioned office, try it without a roof over your head.
“Any time we have inclement weather we have real concerns about the homeless,” said Greta Walker of the Denver Rescue Mission. “People generally think about inclement weather as the cold and snow, but people come through our doors during hot weather too.
“We give them water and try to make sure they’re well and safe and not suffering from heat exhaustion or other heat-related problems.”
During weeks this hot, that’s a lot of water. Walker estimated that Denver proper has 3,900 homeless people, with 10,000 in the metro area.
Max joined their ranks in May after scratching together bus fare from Phoenix. He soon met Randall, and the two became buddies on the street.
“It was getting almighty hot there and I thought I’d be doing myself a favor by coming to Denver,” Max said.
“Not today you ain’t,” Randall said.
Truth to tell, it was 101 degrees in Phoenix as Randall spoke, but I don’t think that news exactly fell into the category of sweet relief.
“It gets tough during the day,” Max said. “I don’t know if you can really fry an egg on the sidewalk, but it sure feels like you could. That’s why we came to the park.”
The two had tried hanging out near the doors of downtown businesses, hoping to catch a blast of cold air as people entered and exited. But the glare and heat from the pavement proved too much, so they split for Sonny Lawson Park, where Beat novelist Jack Kerouac once watched baseball games between his trips on the road.
Max straightened out his legs from the tree he was propped against. He winced. He had dinged his left knee in a fall a few weeks ago and it was still stiff.
He took off a straw cowboy hat that had known better days and turned it in his hands. His knuckles looked like a sack of pecans and were about as brown.
“One thing’s for sure, you’ve got to have a good hat,” he said. “And maybe you hope for a little rain.”
Max cast an eye toward the mountains. Clouds were building. Rain was hinted at, but not promised.
I asked them what they did for shelter. They said they hit the missions now and again, but in weather this warm they usually sleep outside. Sometimes they bed down in shrubbery, other times in doorways.
“Churches are good,” Max said. “No one messes with you at a church. God’s looking after you.”
“Be nice if he could look after us with some rain,” Randall said.
“That it would,” Max said.
A breeze gusted, and sweat cooled on the skin.
I suspected that the men hadn’t seen any prayers answered for a long time, but the breeze would do until then.
William Porter’s column runs Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Reach him at 303-954-1977 or wporter@denverpost.com.
