Pauses. Sudden pauses. They explode in the middle of sentences and hurt as much as the words that come before them and the words that come after them. A man in pain speaks. He tells a story -- haltingly, in broken little bits -- about getting sick and losing his job and losing his fiance and his home and the support of his family, and everything spinning out of control and falling apart, and all the days becoming nights, and some hospital security guard with a gun locking him in a room, some doctor with a needle, some lost month or so in a mental ward.
Now, he drops his head. "And, and . . ." his voice quivers. And I suggest we go to the breakfast buffet now, in the Shoney's in Pikesville, and maybe take a little break.
"That's a good idea," he says.
He's 40 years old, short and trim, with a moustache and thick glasses. Insurance was his field. "I was good at selling insurance," says this man at my table. "But now, what do I do? My reputation. I'm worried . . ."
Another pause. Another broken sentence. Another painful thought, dark memory, worry.
I ask if I can use his name in the column. He says please, no. "That might be too much for me to handle," he says, almost stuttering. "But I think what happened to me is important for people to know. What happened to me could happen to anyone. A year ago, I had everything I wanted -- a job, a fiance, money."
But he hit a wall. He was diagnosed with severe, disabling depression. He started buying medication to stabilize his moods. He lost his job. He became estranged from the woman he intended to marry. He ran out of money.
"The worst thing was I couldn't sleep," he says. "For a long time, I could not sleep. So they gave me medicine to help me sleep. But I'm worried about it. It has side effects. I get headaches from it, and I get dizzy. I took a job making deliveries, but I got dizzy."
He moved around -- North Carolina, New York, back to Baltimore. His family could not handle a him. "I was 40 years old and coming home with a problem," he says. Here's where the words hurt again. Here's where he drops his head again, where he pauses again.
He alludes to things, some of them strange, in broken little bits, and he shakes his head when I press him for details -- hospitals in New York and Maryland, emergency rooms, some security guard pulling a gun "to hold us there," phone calls to 911, waking up lost in a ward for the mentally ill, and staying there a month, putting all his belongings in storage, being dropped off at a homeless shelter, walking around with only two dollars in his pocket, living out of a suitcase, trying to get a Medical Assistance card, trying to get into the Pharmacy Assistance Program, looking for rooms for rent in the Sun classifieds. He shows me the various plastic ID cards issued by social service agencies.
"I called you because of DALP," he says, referring to the Disability Assistance and Loan Program scheduled to be abolished by the governor of Maryland and the subject of this column a week ago. The man at my table has been getting $157 in monthly loans from the program. He hopes that, in time, the depression will be stabilized and he'll be able to work again, and he'll pay it back.
"But this (DALP) and food stamps is all I have for now," he says. "If I didn't live with good friends who took me in and I had to pay rent, I'd be on the street. I'd be out looking for a place to stay every month and worry and not sleeping, and I wouldn't have any time to recover . . .I think it's important people know that there's a sincere need there and this (DALP) is the only hope for some people. I never thought this would happen to me . . ."
Another pause, then, "I think that's all I can say today."
One line here
Passing with flying colors
Jimmy Mathis, the Glen Arm youth who made headlines last summer as the youngest person to fly solo across the United States, celebrated his 17th birthday Friday by passing the test to get his private pilot's license. Jimmy flew solo the first time on his 16th birthday -- the youngest age at which it is allowed by the Federal Aviation Administration -- and now gets his license at 17, again the earliest it is permitted, according to David L. Moeslein, one of Jimmy's Ramair Flight School instructors at Martin State Airport.
Jimmy had to pilot an air excursion from Frederick to Lancaster, Pa., for his examine. En route on the actual flight, the Cessna 172 had a pretend mechanical problem, forcing the youth to find an alternate landing site (Carroll County Airport). He made a landing approach there, then turned back to complete the test with a safe landing at Frederick.
For Agnew, picture this
From the Rev. D. W. Haase, Baltimore: "I am perturbed with Spiro Agnew's picture hanging in the State House, replacing Gov. [Frank] Brown's. Please suggest Agnew's picture be hung in City Jail."
From Anonymous Caller: "I really take offense at your calling the former vice-president a bum. That's not an appropriate word."
From T. W. Millenburg Jr., Baltimore County: "The portrait of Spiro T. Agnew . . . should be placed in an adjacent room designated 'Rogues Gallery.'"
From a press release: "The Coalition of Geriatric Services presents 'Aging and Sexuality . . . Is There Sex After 60!?' Wednesday, February 22 at Lorien Nursing and Rehabilitation Center, 6334 Cedar Lane, Columbia. . . . Anyone interested in exhibitor tables should contact Tim Kuhn at 321-8448."