DENVER—In a little space borrowed between breakfast tables—during a span of time between the hot meal and the hot shower—Father Woody’s Haven of Hope paused Monday morning to remember the homeless who died this year.
The day shelter’s memorial service began and ended with faint and faltering a cappella renditions of “Amazing Grace” and “How Great Thou Art.” Between the hymns, patrons and shelter workers offered up little pieces of seven lost lives.
Penny Russo said her friend Glen Vaverik was always “respectful and helpful.” He helped her find a home at the shelter.
“I’ll miss him,” she said, wiping her tear-stained face.
David Larsen came to Father Woody’s after a volunteer at the shelter watched him sleep, curled within a sleeping bag on a bus bench, for more than 24 hours.
The shelter called 911, recalled volunteer Jay Gould. Over the hours, three medical teams visited Larsen at the bench. And still he remained.
“The sleeping bag never moved,” Gould said. “That’s how he came to us.”
Larsen, sick with AIDS, was given a room at the shelter, where he got stronger, but only for a time.
Shelter board chairman Don Gallegos remembered working with William Robitaille to track down his birth certificate, so Robitaille could look for work as a chef. It wasn’t easy to find the certificate because Robitaille thought his first name might be Norman rather than Bill. They found the certificate, but he couldn’t find a job.
Larry Pantera had a severely burned face.
“He was very kind,” Gallegos said of Pantera. “He was a man of his word.”
Jeff Davis had impressed them with how proud he was of his son. Lee Ortegon liked working crossword puzzles.
“William Whitelance took care of me when I had an injured foot,” said Patti Barrett.
The dead men are at peace, and with their heavenly father, said Kathleen Cronan, director of the shelter run by the Franciscan Friends of the Poor.
Priesthood candidate Anthony Monahan read a passage from the Gospel of Matthew:
“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me. …
“And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.'”
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