Montgomery, Alabama or "How I Almost Got Stabbed"

I will typically refrain from posting personal stories on this blog, as I feel it should be reserved specifically for others'. The story about my entry and exit to Montgomery will be an exception. Also, my friend Ezekiel's profile is coming, but I hesitate to post it until he gives me the ok. As soon as I hear from him, I will post it up here.

I had left Kansas City, Missouri on Monday, April 18th at 1:00 p.m. and arrived at Montgomery, Alabama on April 19th at 9:45 a.m. I felt the Lord wanted me to go to Vineyard Church of Christ, which was only about 2.5 miles from the bus station. A little background: for those that have not experienced the Greyhound bus, doing so means bad food, cramped conditions, and little sleep. Within a day's time, you start to feel sickly and sleep-deprived. By the time I arrived in Montgomery, I was really feeling the sleep burn. Nevertheless, there was a McDonalds across the street and I knew I needed some Hot Cakes to boost my strength for the walk. Once I arrived at McDonalds, I noticed that I was only one of two white people there. This wouldn't have bothered me, had people not been giving me the 'What are you doing here?' stare. I ate my food fast and began my trek towards the church.

The walk began on the side of a highway. There was no sidewalk anywhere, so I was walking on the bike route with my three bags and my blanket, hoping that the Lord would protect me from any cars. The combination of sleep deprivation, loneliness, and the danger of not knowing what would happen began to weigh down upon me. I would let out mini-sobs here and there, and at one point, I was crying, 'Help me Jesus. Help me Lord,' repeatedly because those were the only words keeping me from breaking down on the side of the road.

After I had moved from the highway onto a side street, it didn't take long to see that I was in a completely black neighborhood, and a poor black neighborhood at that. Generally speaking, this is not good for young white guys who are walking with all of their possessions on their back. I was beginning to get frightened, but I felt very determined to press on. Run-down, abandoned houses were all around, the sky was cloudy and gray, and large trees kept the area dark – it felt like I was entering a haunted section of town. As I grew closer to the supposed address, I walked near a school that was fenced off. All black children were playing outside and this little girl began to call out to me, "Hobo! Hey hobo!" then she switched to "Whitey!" I didn't take it personally nor did I acknowledge her. Looking back, as I moved further away from the main road and deeper into the neighborhood, I think she was trying to warn me.

 I didn't take any photos while I walked because I was too scared to think of taking any, but here's a photo of a run-down neighborhood in New Orleans that resembles the neighborhood I walked past in Montgomery.

Again, not my picture. This is an abandoned house in Detroit, but there were many houses similar to this where I walked in Montgomery.

I followed the directions that Google Maps gave me to the tee, and up until the last street, they had been completely accurate. When I turned on the last street, which was supposed to be John Morris Ave., it was actually Hose Morace (???). I stopped for a moment, not knowing what to do, but then decided I had come too far not to continue. A not-too-menacing young black guy came around the corner by himself and looked at me strangely. I asked him if he knew where John Morris Ave. was. He said he didn't, but that I should not go down "Hose Morace" any further unless I wanted to be "cut." Specifically, he said, "They'll cut you if you go down there." Luckily, he showed me a shortcut out of that area. I took off quickly, not really comprehending all that had just taken place.

By this point, I was despondent. I headed back to the bus station in tears, still confused. Of course, I should have gotten a hold of someone from the church before I had even left Kansas City, and in fact, I had tried. No one had picked up, nor was there an answering machine to take any information. For whatever reason, I had decided that pressing on was the right thing to do anyway. I believed that the Lord would take care of it and he did, but it certainly wasn't in the manner I had expected.

As I walked back the way I had come, I felt utterly alone. I was in a section of town where I could potentially be killed and all I wanted was to see a friendly face who could point me in the right direction. I felt like I was failing the Lord by not pressing on to find the church. All I wanted to do was sleep, but more than that, I wanted to leave the hellhole that was Montgomery (no offense if there are any Montgomery readers out there, but this is the only experience I've had with your town). I felt like I had failed somehow, but I also felt like I had followed God completely. Had I misheard Him?

I arrived back at the bus station, and knew I had to get ahold of my cousins, Jesse and Maureen in Fort Worth, Texas. I had already made plans to go there this coming weekend, but I needed to go now. Thankfully, they were both very accommodating to this abrupt change. I got a 2:25 pm ticket on Tuesday – less than five hours after I had first gotten there – and headed out.

Even at this early stage, I feel like the Lord's shown me a few things. One: I wasn't supposed to go any further. I had walked close to 3 miles to the "church" and 3 miles back to the Greyhound only to cultivate more sorrow and despair. Two: it was no accident that I heard to go to that church from the Lord. He knew that I would try to walk there despite the state I was in and despite my surroundings. This might sound strange to some, but.... Three: because I tried to go to the church – which may not even exist, despite Google Maps - I feel like He has told me I have been faithful to Him in this, and that I'm willing to walk wherever. For a few hours anyway, with all my bags on my back and in a completely dangerous part of town, I knew what it was like to be completely homeless and scared. Besides the Lord, I had no one with me when I walked: no parent, no spouse, no friend could have helped me if I would have walked into a situation where I could have been hurt or killed. Four: once I got on the bus to go Fort Worth, my spirits instantly lifted and I felt the Lord's presence with me. It was incredibly comforting, and I doubt he would bless me with His Presence if I had failed him in any way. Five: on a more practical note, I'm now calling and making contact with every church I believe I'm supposed to go to before I get there. I'm sure I will learn more from this experience as time goes on, but I know, despite my initial ignorance and the intensity of the situation, my time in Montgomery was not in vain.

Looking outside myself and just within the area I was walking, the poverty found in Montgomery is striking. As I mentioned before, run-down, abandoned houses are everywhere. It's also very obvious that gangs and drugs run rampant in this section of town. Pimped-out cars are in front of trashy houses. Young men wear designer clothes, but still beg for money. It's a very strange and striking contrast to what I've seen so far. Unless I had a black tour guide, it was definitely somewhere I didn't need to be. Praise God that He got me out of there when He did, but it's still a place that needs and deserves prayer.

Here is a recreation of me walking down the side of the road in Alabama with all my stuff. This is pretty accurate, although the bike lane was a tad wider.