Lindsay. Lindsay. Lindsay. It was a name Rich Weaver probably heard at least a dozen times a day during the days he spent sorting clothes, packaging toiletries and keeping an eye out for anything else that needed to be done. Lindsay Roberts was executive director of the Homeless Assistance Center on North Street in Daytona Beach, and Weaver was one of her most trusted volunteers, showing up seven days a week and usually staying several hours. He presided over the center’s ever-growing cache of clean used clothes, but she frequently deputized him with other tasks including serving as my guide and babysitter when I spent several days at the center in March 2005 for a story and he was always willing to tackle anything she, or other center employees, asked of him.
The Daytona Beach News-Journal
It’s hard to read the two-part (so far) saga of Brian Freeman’s sojourn in St. Augustine and remain unmoved.
As reported by The St. Augustine Record’s Peter Willott and Sheldon Gardner, the bare bones of Freeman’s story go like this:
Our photographer Peter Willott noticed the evolving garden, as did many other passers-by. He saw Freeman picking up trash on the side of the road. He rightly thought it was a story that needed to be told.
Because Freeman’s words revealed something that’s not often contemplated about homelessness: In the spring, I want people to drive on U.S. 1 and see the flowers and think of me.