Homeless No More

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I first met Steve four years ago on a Hotdog run one Sunday afternoon.  He was the first homeless person that I met personally and chatted with.   Something about him touched my heart and I looked forward to seeing him each week.  In fact, I couldn't wait for Sunday's so I drove there many times during the week to see if he was OK. 

Sometimes, Steve would be in his own world and you just had to enter in to be a part of it.  Other times he could talk much like anyone else.  He loved his coffee, but not just plain coffee.  He liked flavored creams in them as well.  Lots of them.  I brought Steve meals at times and met many others who came by to see him too.   He was truly an icon on Sheridan / Classen Blvd.  He will be missed by many.

Sister Barbara,

I wanted to take the time to thank you for the wonderful article that you placed in the Oklahoman about Stephen Beachboard. I befriended Stephen in the spring of 2003 as I used to run the downtown streets after work for daily exercise. I lived in the Deep Deuce apartments so after work I would run West on 4th street until I hit Western and then hook a left until I hit Sheridan and another left until I seen Stephen in his doorway and I would always stop and say hello and see how he  was doing. I would run back home, shower, and then drive back down Sheridan to Stephen's doorway and then give him money if he needed it or go get him some coffee. I laughed when I read your comment about Irish Creamer and Vanilla Creamer as I remember Stephen giving me the exact directions on how he  wanted his coffee: He wanted two large coffees, 6 Irish Creams & 6 sugars in the first cup and 6 Vanilla Creams & 6 sugars in the second cup and make sure you use sugar and not artificial sweeteners. I would always make the employees make a fresh pot of coffee for my friend in the doorway. I will tell you something that always has  amazed me, out of all the times I went to the corner  gas station to get Stephen coffee not ONE and I mean not one time did the employees charge me for Stephen's coffee. There was always a reason they wouldn't charge me and they would say " Oh the coffees free because we made you wait for it " or " Sorry we didn't have fresh coffee made and it's on the house". God works in mysterious ways and that was his way of paying for Stephen's coffee as long as I would go get it for him.

I remember one night in the winter of 2003 when we were experiencing a nasty ice storm and severe cold front downtown OKC and I was very worried about Stephen freezing to death. I loaded up a small propane heater, blankets, hand warmers, socks, gloves, and some food in my car and headed down to Stephens doorway. I arrived to find him all bundled up in the doorway. I showed him everything I brought him and he only took what he needed. He didn't want the heater as it would be to hard for him to carry if he had to move, he didn't need anymore blankets as he had all he could carry already but he would take some socks, gloves, and food. I did run over to the corner and made him his 2 large cups of coffee to his specifications. My wife to be Deanna was with me on this said night and she was very surprised that Stephen didn't take anymore then he needed and that he turned down the gas heater on such a cold night. I figured that Stephen knew if he used that propane heater he could have been attacked by others wanting it or that he may have been asked to leave the security of the doorway for using the heater as it posed a fire hazard if not used correctly.

I moved to Ada Oklahoma in the summer of 2004 and I was sad to leave my friend Stephen but anytime I was in the city which was monthly I would find my friend and give him money or get coffee if he needed it. I remember also that he drawn a picture of the exact pens he asked me to buy him and that he needed a notebook and it had to be a Chub. I was always amazed at the details he went to or the detailed drawing for the pens he wanted so I wouldn't make the mistake and get the wrong ones.  I couldn't find Stephen after the spring of 2006 so I had not seen him in this last year. I drove up and down the streets of downtown OKC looking for him this summer without any luck. I read in your article that he was under the bridge and I failed to look there which really saddens me as I would have loved to stayed in touch with him.

I was unable to make Stephens memorial as I had a sick infant at home that day but  I have been praying for his soul to be granted eternal rest and may he never hunger again.  Being a practicing Catholic myself here at St. Joseph's Parish in Ada I understand God's mercy and I know he welcomed home our dear friend Stephan after a really hard life. I wish to thank you for taking the time to honor Stephen as he deserved the praise he received from you and the others that attended his memorial.

Please keep me informed if you learn anymore about Stephen as I have often wondered how he ended up where he was at in life. Do they know what his cause of death was ? Had Stephen been sick or had  he required medical help prior to his death ?  Do you think his last name was really Beachboard ? I have never heard that name in  my life...

Sister Barbara I will pray for you and your Pantry as I am honored to know anyone that does God's  work. You make me proud to be a Catholic and may Jesus welcome you home when your work is done here on earth.

From Sharon Lynn:

During Happy moments, PRAISE GOD; Difficult moments, SEEK GOD;

Quiet moments, WORSHIP GOD; Painful moments, TRUST GOD.

Every moment, THANK GOD.

(Taken from something written about Rick Warren, the author of “The Purpose Driven Life”)

For some time, maybe years, I had noticed a homeless man sitting at Sheridan and Western and later at Main and Classen.  One day I put a little bit of money together and stopped and asked this person if he would be offended if I gave him some money.  He took it, said God Bless you and I drove away.  From then until March, 2007, I would stop and give him money or little gifts, never anything great.

Some months later, I finally asked him what his name was and he said “Steven”.  I don’t really know how he spelled it.  I told him my name and we became friends, I think.  Every time I had a little extra money, I would give him some.

Steven became my source of inspiration.  If I told him I had a bad day at work, I would back up and say, “I bet you think bad day, you ought to live on the street”.  He made me think before I complained and I always complain.

On December 22, 2007, I brought him two giant, pink gift bags of stuff he had said he could use.  In particular, he wanted a blue plaid shirt.  I had gone home and my husband had a blue, plaid, flannel shirt that he couldn’t wear because it was scratchy to him.  It was a God moment.  Who would have known?  He later told me that shirt had a missing button and that was probably why my husband didn’t wear it.  What a character.

I couldn’t buy anything, and my husband had lost his job of 16 years and there were a lot of clothes he could no longer use.  I gathered a lot of things and put them in those gift bags.  I drove up to his spot at Main and Classen and we sat in the back of my hatch back and he went through his new stuff.  I think he was pleased.  For some reason, he didn’t want those big, awful, pink bags.  *Note, he did refuse a London Fog rain coat, saying it was too good for him.  I just didn’t understand that.)

In March, 2007,  I couldn’t find Steven for weeks.  I looked every day on my way to and from work, then later learned he had moved to live under the bridge at Classen under the I-40 highway.  He had died (heart attack, alone, age 54)and I never got to see him again.

I was very angry  that he had moved and I couldn’t find him and of all things, angrier still that he had died.  What on earth was “I” going to do.  Crazy isn’t it?  Death makes some people very, very selfish and thoughtless.

In closing, every time I gave him something no matter how small, I would get some kind of wind fall in return.  It was the most remarkable thing.