jaylar
At 9:00 am we were at the Canal Street Post Office. We showed photos of Kian Hamilton to the staff. None had seen him. We mentioned the P.O. Box and they exchanged glances and said; “Stinky!” as they compared the man they saw to the photos we had.
They described how Stinky came early in each month in the same filthy things and went to the Box. He always had one letter.
Jesse, my second, and I exchanged looks, and we knew we were dealing with a homeless man. A man probably addicted to drugs who never changed his clothing because he didn’t have other clothing.
As we came from the Post Office we decided that I would walk four blocks up, Jesse, four blocks down, and we would look in the various alleys. We’d meet here and start again doing another four up and then turning a corner to come down another block. If that wasn’t successful we’d do our last block up, across, and down the fifth and meet here.
If that wasn’t successful, I’d go right, Jesse would go left. In this way we would cover the area that was served by Canal Street.
It was a cool day, not hot or cold, and I was wearing flats so considered it exercise but after up and down twice, we were exhausted because New York City has large blocks. We had a light lunch and after an hour relaxation, continued our quest.
We completed our up and down, now moved to our side to side. I had only gone one block when I saw ‘Stinky’.
