Holy Joe’s

By mcscraic

Sat, 25 Jan 2020

410 reads

2 comments

Holy Joe's

Short Story by Paul McCann

It was in 1967 when the riots first started . At first rocks and petrol bombs were thrown from both sides of the road by angry youths . Sectarian gangs roamed the streets . Buses were hijacked and set alight . Shops burnt and people evicted from their homes . It wasn’t long before gunfire was heard across every neighbourhood . Each day the running battles had left more dead on the streets . Children played in the streets as bullets and bombs echoed a new sound in their ears . Somewhere between fear and innocence they learned to walk to school . I was one of the kids who grew up in Belfast city where troubles had come to stay . Some of the good turned bad and people cried . It was hard to live with the violence and crime . It was as if a monster had been unleashed to attack the heart of innocent people everywhere . One of the innocent ones I remember was an old man called Joe . Joe was old and afraid .
He had had isolated himself in a little one bedroom flat embrangled by the chains of a social fabric that had deserted him .
One day as I walked past Joe’s flat I heard him screaming out . That’s how I met him . I walked into Joes life by accident . Inside his little flat Joe was withering away into decay . He hadn’t been eating or washing .
Joes senses were gone . Eyesight and hearing .
He was pinned down and gripped by paranoia . His social interaction had been taken away because of the troubles and the fear that kept him imprisoned inside his little flat .Joe had locked himself away from life .
Too frightened to go out he sat by the window each day peering out from behind the curtains at the ever silent danger always there on the street .
The monster was out there waiting to attack .
Burnt down candles and some without wicks sat beside holy pictures all around Joes flat . He had money wrapped up with rubber bands and little shopping lists beside them . I remember the first time I went to the shops for Joe . The look on his face when I returned with some food was priceless .
I helped Joe to clean himself up and contacted welfare agencies for some support . As it tunned out Joe’s hearing was improved by hearing aids and his eyesight wasn’t as bad as I had first thought . Joe had been married once but his wife had died and there were no living family members left to care for Joe .
I though to myself here is an old man that had almost worried himself to death in a city that he never thought could help him .
After a meeting with some aged care organizations and members of the local health team Joe was provided with daily home help and a regular community nurse that would do his shopping and tend to his personal care issues .
At this stage it was a better alternative than a nursing home . Joe had the support now of the community around him and some funds were donated to help Joe feel comfortable and free in his little flat .
After a few months work Joe had a new outlook on life . He had a new security system placed outside his front door and smoke alarms and sprinklers fitted . The installation of spotlights around the outside of his front and back yard had complemented the new walkways around his flat .
Joe had a phone with all the emergency numbers stored for easy use .
He was given a walking frame and other mobility aids to assist him get around Once a week he went on an outing with the seniors club . Joe now had some new friends and was seen back at his local church again .
The troubles were still as bad as ever on the streets of Belfast but Joe often said he could turn off his hearing aid to that .
When I remembered how insecure Joe was it made me so happy to see this new person with his life together again .
The on going assistance from community health was now in place and I knew Joe was going to be ok .
My last visit with Joe was nice .

I bought him some new candles and holy cards for his flat and asked him to pray for me . He said he would think about it and laughed .
We never said goodbye . We said hello .

The End

By Paul McCann