HENRY, SPIDER AND ME/CMD/2019

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I row in a single scull on the Schuylkill River in Philadelphia. As the oldest rowing venue in the United States, Philadelphia rowing clubs follow the English system of pushing off from boathouse docks on the east side of the river and then crossing to the west side. We  then row three miles up to the top where we are met with a barrier of rocks, turn around and row back down the east side with some river assistance, to our  boathouse docks. For at least six years I have been aware that someone was living in a hut along the upper westside bank. Whomever it was, they had become so bold that they had covered their shelter with bright blue tarps which would become highly visible in late fall  and into early spring when leaf cover was low. In March 2018 I headed out on my maiden voyage for the new rowing season with another woman in her single scull and as we approached the upper westside I asked her if she had seen any evidence of the person who clearly had been living for years along the river. In fact she had. The prior Friday, which was Good Friday, she had rowed upstream and witnessed this man’s camp filled with Philadelphia Police and it appeared to her that he was being evicted from his hut. Moments later I looked up and saw a calm and somewhat dazed looking man sitting where the hut had been. I presumed this was the camping tenant and called out a hello and waved. He calmly took me in with a nod and raised his hand in salutation. As I was rowing back towards the boathouse, I thought of Henry David and his impactful learning, drawn from his two years of living in relative comfort in a cabin along Walden Pond. At the very least, I thought,  this person must have some stories from his many years along the river. After cleaning up both myself and my boat I headed out to see if I could find and engage with this man. And find him I did. I introduced myself and told him that I thought he probably had quite a story to tell and I wanted to know if he was interested in sharing it and possibly having it published. He told me he was pretty busy but would consider my offer for conversation/interviews at some later date.  

I asked him if he had ever heard of Henry David Thoreau. He had not. I told him how HDT had lived in a simple log home for ~ 2 years along a pond and wrote a book we now call Walden, and of it’s lasting and international impact. That his writings on Civil Disobedience had deeply influenced the lives of Gandhi and Martin Luther King, and that Thoreau was an ardent abolitionist and admirer of John Brown. To these facts, he lite up and enthusiastically nodded. I suggested that to Thoreau’s two years of living in a solid wooden structure, he had been living in a tent for possibly six years. He then told me he had lived in this spot for 10 years in a hollowed out log before he build his hut, in which he had been living in for six years. Sixteen years! He took pride in his insulated walls created with discarded plastic bags that he had filled with leaves. I referenced his having had a visit from the Philadelphia Police the previous week and he nodded and said, “Yes and I need a lawyer”, which was why he was too busy to talk with me at this time at any length.

I gave him my card which included that I was Executive Director of an art center and my German last name. He asked where in Germany my family was from. I told him the Schwarzwald or Black Forest region. To which he replied, “I’ve been there. I was in Freiburg. I remember being in a great art museum and church and then we went into France as it’s right near the border of France.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather! Whether or not he was fabricating a story to fit with my German surname and occupation, there was no doubt that this man was smart and worldly.

 I asked him if he had been in the military and stationed in Germany and he said no that he had been a missionary. I asked him which church and he paused and said somewhat reluctantly, “A group out of Wheaton, Ill.” with whom  he was no longer affiliated nor any organized religion.

Since he now knew my name. I asked him his. “Spider”, he said. “My name is Spider.”

I asked Spider if that was his given or chosen name and he told me that he chose it from a reference in the Old Testament which he took to mean as an affirmation of the spider who could live anywhere.

Henry David Thoreau was born in Concord, MA on July 12,1817 and died there at age 44 from TB. He faced his death with equanimity if not good cheer. When an aunt asked him if he had made peace with God he responded that he “never knew they had quarreled”. Days from death he commented, “now comes smooth sailing.” 

Thoreau is best known for Walden, which draws on his two years of simple living in a cabin he constructed along Walden Pond on land owned by his mentor, Ralph Waldo Emerson. While this time apart gave Thoreau respite from the probable chaos of personalities at his family’s boarding house, he did not lack for social engagement as he often walked into town for supper and conversation and to have his Mother do his laundry. 

Henry and his brother John were deeply influenced by their readings of Native American life and spent considerable time in the woods where they experienced a thin membrane between themselves and all of nature. His innate sensitivity and practiced skills of observation contributed to a keenness that he used to document the natural world and its seasonal changes. His ways of seeing were a profound influence on many environmentalists like John Muir, the Scottish immigrant who led the campaign to preserve the wild beauty of places like Yosemite and was a founder of the Sierra Club and scientists like EO Wilson. Wilson has constructed computer models that demonstrate the viability of our planet if we would leave 50% of it wild.They were all in agreement that “in wildness lies our salvation.” 

Despite Henry’s family being of modest means he was afforded an education at Harvard College where he was considered an average student. His first job upon graduation was as a teacher of children. Refusing to participate in the accepted culture of corporal punishment he quit this position and started his own school in Concord with his bother John in the very school they had attended. He also worked in the family business of pencil production.

Publishing books like Walden  took Henry on book tours which included a stop in Philadelphia in 1854 at the now defunct Spring Garden Institute. Here he made his case that “all good things are wild and free”. His tour of Philadelphia was led by Unitarian minister William Furness, who like Thoreau was an abolitionist as well as the Father of Frank Furness, Philadelphia’s most celebrated Victorian architect whose splendid designs includes the Undine boathouse on Philadelphia’s famed Boathouse Row. Furness is also buried in Mount Laurel cemetery, a National Historic Landmark and as a crow flies directly across from Spider’s home.

Spider and I met two more times the spring of 2018. He told me he was born in North Philadelphia and that he was a stepchild and if any family members knew where he was they pretended that they did not and that was just how he wanted it.

Growing up, Spider said that he had spent a lot of time in Fairmount Park and along the river where he often ate apples and cherries from the trees and that this was his home and that he needed a lawyer.

I asked Spider how old he was and he said,”I’ll be 62 in August 2018”. He said he had never married and had no children that he was aware of, with a little smile that got even larger when he said that he was, “Ready, willing and able”, to which we both enjoyed a good laugh. He then said, “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings”. I told him that she had sung for me and we laughed some more. I then asked him if he was eligible to collect Social Security. He looked puzzled. I explained that if he had paid into the SS system he would become eligible for monthly benefits upon his 62 birthday. He perked right up and said he was going to look into that. 

I  later gifted Spider a space blanket as the spring of 2018 was cold in Philadelphia. He nodded in appreciation and said he had used these before, when he lived in Brooklyn, that they were good but did not last. He said that when he had his hut he was comfortable and could cook heathy meals and that now walked across the East Falls Bridge to buy food at a gas station quick market. Somehow Spider was a part of the cash economy.

In Philadelphia, the Schuylkill River is contained within the 10,200 acre Fairmount Park, one of the largest city parks in the US. The river divides the park between east and west. The park is large enough to support horse back riders, cross county skiers, fly fishing, happy and illegal swimmers on a hot day, the usual walking, hiking, biking, sleigh rides in the snow and the oldest rowing venue in the United States. The park is filled with historic houses. One mansion hosts a hostel.  Now surrounded by residential neighborhoods is the oldest zoo in America. There are a few but nevertheless beautiful remnants of the 1876 Centennial Exposition, whose main building houses a children’s museum. A treasure of a 19th century Japanese house with a koi pond and gardens hosts an annual cherry blossom festival. Neighborhood playgrounds are scattered through most neighborhoods but the park is home to the beloved Smith playground. Public art abounds including sculptural works by Calder, Remington, Jody Pinto and an installation called, “Embodying Thoreau: A dwelling for sitting and watching”, by Ed Levie. 

Nestled on the west side of the park, not far from Spider’s compound where he is often burning incense is Belmont Plateau, which provides a scenic overlook of the City and was the site of day two of the first Earth Week which later became Earth Day. Day one of Earth Week featured Alan Watts, whose messianic message was, “turn on, tune in and drop out” and Beat generation poet Alan Ginsberg. Educational and scientific symposia focused on the environmental crisis created by humans and strategies for healing and respecting our earth. Day two at the Plateau, was a “Be in” of endless music and dancing. I was inspired to cut yet another day of school as a high school senior and ride my 3 speed bike from Ewing, NJ to sit in the crowd on day one. Sadly, my bottom was too sore to make the return trip for day 2 of expanded music and dancing. Spider is an ecstatic dancer. I will have to ask him if he attended.

 In 1970, we had visionary Senators like Gaylord Nelson who led the charge for Earth Week and environmental stewardship. In 1990 to commemorate the 20th anniversary, Earth Day became official by proclamation at a signing ceremony at the White House with George H.W. Bush. Mountaineers from the USA, Soviet Union and China  tied themselves together at their Everest basecamp as symbols of international peace and commitment to earth’s environment. I became a vegetarian, a dedicated composter and like Thoreau a war tax resister.  April 2020 will be the 50 year anniversary of this event. The river is cleaner, bald eagles have returned and a photo of a beaver is circulating on Facebook. Last summer a bear was photographed taking a swim in the Wissahickon Creek. Shad have a ladder system and I have been a part of a team of stewards who meet to pull tires and trash out of the river.

A mild 43 degree, December 17, 2018, seemed like a good day to possibly find Spider at home. As I turned into the curve on the West River Drive, there was Spider dancing joyfully in the scrub to music from his boom box.  I parked my car in the nearby lot and walked up the path. I first heard and then saw a car with a very flat tire limping beside me. I walked to the curb and pointed out the safer shoulder on the road just ahead.  The driver nodded and showed me the tear in his tire and pointed to the huge pothole that had caused it. I could tell from his accent that he was from Africa and I reflected on comments of friends who had recently been in Nigeria where they said the roads were filled with unbelievable potholes. I wondered if this distraught man thought, hey this is some of what I was hoping to leave behind.  As I walked towards Spider’s turf and this dancing man came into view, I reflected on Henry David’s notion that “We are rich in proportion to what we can do without”. 

Spider told me that he had just been thinking about me and had not seen me on the river. I told him the water temperature had become too cold to safely row in a lightweight single and that I hoped he was well. He said he was and had been. I showed him an image on my phone of a roughed out painting I was working on as a companion to the story I was writing. He laughed when I showed him the current blank area which was going to be him. Spider was cordial but not interested in much conversation. I gave him a gift of fresh fruit and another space blanket and asked him if he ever visited the East Falls library. I was surprised that he was not aware of it and pleased that he seemed pleased to know about this resource. Henry David said, that through reading one can “live at home like a traveler.” From 7th grade through my junior year of high school, as seriously ill kid, I was, like  Henry David, a voracious reader. Henry and I both read books on Eastern religion and both came to the conclusion, possibly along with Spider that “freedom of thought and action were the greatest benefits of an education.”

I was back in my car at 3:45 pm and set my phone for hands free and dialed the Philadelphia Streets department to report the pothole. The recording told me I was number 11 in the queue. I was still in the queue at 4:30 when the office closed. 

I visited Spider a week later to gift him some homemade christmas cookies. The river drive was closed to traffic making it a virtual oasis of tranquility. It was almost noon but Spider was not up to being sociable so I left my gift without any real conversation. We wished one another a Merry Christmas.

Philadelphia is the largest, poorest city in the US. 25% of the population lives at or below the poverty level. Most of this population represents multigenerational poverty, the toughest to change. North Philadelphia, where Spider was born, is filled with vast areas of abandoned factory buildings from industries that began moving out around the time Spider was born. North Philadelphia includes the Kensington neighborhood, described by journalists for an October 2018 New York Times article as the largest open air narcotics market for heroin on the East Coast. Philadelphia County has the highest overdose rate of the ten most populated counties in the US. Given the beauty of the flowering cherry trees of spring, the color of fall leaves, the ever flowing river and wildlife that includes Great Blue Herons, osprey, turtles and variety of fish, it is surprising that Spider is the only person I have seen living along the river. 

Mid January 2019 news was filled with anticipation of the coming polar vortex. I whipped up a casserole of arborio rice in homemade stock, with roasted vegetables and pork cooked with a nod to Vietnamese cuisine. I packed a bag with added high protein drinks, chocolate bars, another space blanket and one of my camping mats that is waterproof high density foam on one side and and egg crate style foam on the other. I headed into town and found Spider at his site. After greetings I asked him how he liked the christmas cookies. “Pretty good except for those Lorna Doones”, he said. “Lorna Doones?”, I said? “They were all homemade, no Lorna Doones”. “Well, Spider insisted, “I liked all but one.” I laughed to myself. He was probably referring to the cornmeal with lemon zest cookies promoted by James Beard and clearly Spider had not been through the Clare 

Dieterle(my Mother)training program. I told him we were heading into extremely cold weather and that I thought this mat would be helpful and told him I had brought some food including a casserole with pork, which he said he sometimes ate.

I saw Spider a couple of weeks later. As I approached his tent I could see the bright blue camping mat a top his bed. I commented on it and he lit up. “This really did help me get through and I thank you. Maybe I’ll be able to help you someday,” he said. “I’m so glad Spider, I said, and how did you like that casserole?’ “That was not for me,” said Spider. “Hmmm, I said, was it the Vietnamese spicing of the meat”? “Wow, Spider said, did you make that”? “Well, indeed I did”, I said. “Oh, I would have tried it if I had known,” said Spider. “What I really like are chicken wings.” “Well sorry Spider, they are not in my repertoire”, I said. “Well”, Spider informed me, food is medicine. “yes, I agree with that, I said, which is why I don’t make chicken wings.” Spider was clearly insulted by my comment and told me, If I knew how to eat them right, they would be.” Later I thought he was probably quite right about his diet. The chicken fat helped him through the cold and he was a healthy fit looking man who looked younger that his 62 years.

I saw Spider in another couple of weeks as I wanted him to see the painting I was working on of him along the river and get his input on animal additions. I took inspiration from the famous Peaceable Kingdom painting painted by Bucks county Quaker Edward Hicks in the 1830’s. I showed Spider an image of my progress and he told me he loved sparrows and wanted them included. He had not seen deer in years and thought they might be affected by some kind of disease, so no dear. Yes to foxes, squirrels, woodpeckers. 

Fast forward to April and a perfect spring day. Much like the day portrayed in the painting I have completed of Spider. After a row I thought I would seek out Spider’s company and show him an image of the completed painting. It was around 10:20 am when I came upon his tent and on this day, Spider was happy to come on out. We enjoyed our longest conversation. He let me know he would have preferred a gray fox in the painting, otherwise it was OK. He wanted to know if I recently left the bag of fruit from Killer Joe’s. “You bring healthy food, so I thought it might have been from you.” “Not me, sounds like you have a cadre looking out for you Spider.” I told Spider I had learned my lesson about bringing him food and he told me he became seriously ill one time from prepared food that he had been gifted.

Somehow we  transitioned to talking about school. We discovered that we both went to Catholic school for grades 1- 3 year. Spider attended St . Ludwig’s at 28th and Master in Brewreytown/Fairmount/North Philadelphia. He liked it, said he could learn there and said it was hard transitioning from the order of Catholic school to the chaos of public school. The nuns wore habits, he a uniform and the two priests were “good guys” who maybe didn’t find him cute enough, he laughed.  He liked math and science and transferred to a votch school and then dropped out of high school and entered Job Corps, the government program that trains 16-24 olds. He was stationed in Kentucky at an Army base and was in a program focused on machine repair. He injured his knee, and opted to have surgery and convalescence in Philadelphia. Through Job Corps he went back to a small high school in Philadelphia which he said was filled with students from many different countries. 

While hardly flush with savings, Spider reflected on sharing some of his money with a cousin in Brooklyn so that she could afford a bus ticket to visit their dying 92 year old Grandmother. Teary eyed he said, “Wow, I haven’t thought about that and my Grandmother in a long time.”

It’s summer time in Philadelphia and it’s replete with regattas, high temperatures and sometimes stifling humidity. The river has flooded over the banks and Spider’s compound is encased in a verdant, almost impenetrable growth.