Postcards from the edge: A modest vignette of a man no longer invisible.by Kenneth James

Ronnie--post and photo by Ken

Ken is a friend, who when he has time will join us in the park. This is his post of a chance meeting he had with one of our friends from the park.


I’d like you to meet Ronald Timothy Merritt, a gentleman I met while taking pictures on a cold snowy day last December in downtown Boise. He plays harmonica, likes a beer or two, and sleeps where he can. Ronnie (His dad used to call him Ronnie) and I visited for about 1/2 hour that day. He shared a little about his life, we had a few laughs, and I took a few pictures.


Mr. Merritt was both surprised and delighted that anyone would want to take his picture. He didn't think he mattered enough. He thought he was too ugly, but I assured him that his was the perfect face for a great picture. Before we parted ways, he asked if he could have a copy. Of course I said yes.


Ron doesn’t dream of riches and fame. He doesn’t dream of someday owning a luxury home on a golf course or of driving a BMW. Life dealt him some tough blows over the years, broke his spirit, and he’s been down and out ever since. But what he does want is to be remembered, for someone to know that he once existed, that he once played and laughed, that he once loved, that he once had hopes and dreams, that he was once just like you and me. Ron was pleased at the thought that having his picture taken might, in some small way, fulfill that modest desire.


So here is Ronald Timothy Merritt; a child of God who was once his mother's pride and joy; a man whose father used to call Ronnie; a man who walks the streets of Boise and sleeps where he can, who plays harmonica and likes a beer or two now and then...and who will, from this day forward, not be forgotten.