Toledo Tales

A Toledo Tales Guest Editorial
by Father Jon O’Brien

Father O’Brien: Minister to Toledo’s human refuse

Back in the seventies, when this nation first began to struggle with substance abuse, urban decay, and homelessness, the adage “God don’t make no trash” was coined to help folks realize that no matter how dire the situation, the good Lord loved them. And in my seventeen years as an ordained priest, I have found this to be true. Well, at least to a certain extent: God don’t make no trash, but there’s some fucked up people on this planet.

Take this one parishioner who I’ll call “Clarence.” Clarence is a full-blown nymphomaniac, and doesn’t care who or what he bangs as long as he gets off. One time he confessed that he had sex with a one-eyed waitress and two feral cats in a dumpster behind the Monroe Street Kroger after a long, sweaty night huffing paint thinner. Hell, just last Wednesday I caught him in the women’s restroom, stroking himself like the dickens to the youth underwear section of a Sears catalog from 1987. Not exactly what I’d call a productive citizen, if you know what I mean.

Then there’s “Sarah.” Sarah’s a schizophrenic homeless woman who isn’t Catholic and never attends mass, but always shows up for pancake breakfasts and canned food drives. The last time she was here she stank so bad of feces, tuna fish, and pot resin that Sister Miriam got the dry heaves. This is the same Sister Miriam, mind you, who grew up on a Michigan farm slaughtering hogs and has a steel trap for a stomach.

And finally we have “Martin,” who is about four hundred years old and has survived enough strokes to kill a large puma. Martin is a veteran, a God-fearing man, but he’s so bitter and senile in his old age that he’s taken to hooting during my homilies as if this were some Southern Baptist revival. I preached a message of tolerance and peace last Sunday, and halfway through, like clockwork, comes Martin a-screeching “we should bomb those sand-niggers back to Stonehenge just like the good book say!”

So sure, God may not make trash, but he’s made a butt-load of whack jobs and crazies in this town.

Labels: homeless, human debris, Toledo