My name is Wendell Jordan Sr. I love being a dad and I\’m the guy whose glass is always 1/2 full.

This is my first post on my blog in close to a year. I hope that none of you think that I\’ve become disinterested in being and performing my duties as a positive parent.

For 10 months, which began in March of last year and ended in January of this year, I have been homeless. I spent that time living in a men\’s shelter in Brooklyn, New York.

This experience was like nothing I had been through before. There were those times during my life as an active alcoholic and a drug user when the lights in the place that I stayed were turned off. There were other times when the cable got turned off and those other times when I really had to struggle to get the rent paid and put food on the table. I\’ve been sober and clean for 25 years and I thought those types of things was far in my past. (But, by far, this experience was the most challenging)


It was March 15, 2016 when the marshals came to apartment 8C, changed the locks on the door and I left Building 8 for the last time. It was a cold but bright, sunny day. Anticipating that this day might come, I had rented a storage locker a few months before where I was able to put a few things that I wanted to hold on to. This storage locker became my sanctuary on many occasions during my homeless period. I took one last look back at Building 8, and then headed for storage.  I had never experienced being evicted and I was afraid of what the future had in store for me.


I looked online and learned the homeless men\’s intake center was on 30th Street and 1st avenue. I put my important documents such as my birth certificate and social security card in my backpack and began my trip to the East side of Manhattan.

Up to now I have neglected to say what led me to be evicted. The best way to describe it is that I took some risks and they didn\’t work out.

I made it to the intake center around 1 PM. I sat in a big room with 5 or 6 other guys and it would not be until 6 before I could see someone. That person assigned me a bed and my residency at the men\’s shelter began. I stayed in that building for about a week before I was transferred to another shelter in Brooklyn. I was assigned bed number 4039 and that\’s where I lived for the remainder of my stay.

On December 31, 2015 a friend from my past contacted me. She is someone who I knew 45 years ago. I was very happy to hear from her. We exchanged phone numbers and we have been talking every day since then.

In the beginning, I didn’t tell her about my situation. I didn’t want to end a relationship that really hadn’t gotten started. I kept my secret from her for about a month.  When I finally gave her all the details of my dilemma, I expected her to run for the hills. I wouldn’t have blamed her because everyone has their own set of issues and most don’t want to get involved in someone else’s.

I waited for that dead sound one hears when the party that one is speaking to disconnects. She didn’t hang up. In fact she wanted to know every detail.

I failed to mention that 45 years ago we were two peas in a pod. Granted we were only 17 at the time but I know that we had a powerful effect on each other. The closeness we felt then, I guess never left.

Her name is LadyJDuchess and she has traveled with me during this whole ordeal. I may have gotten through this alone but having her as my best friend and someone to share this experience with has made this trip bearable.

Although I wasn’t writing for my blog, I was, at her suggestion, writing every day about my homeless experience. The daily writing helped to me to understand what I was going through and it also helped bring closure for each day.

During the course of the year, I will share some of what I wrote during the 292 days that I lived at the Barbara Kleiman Men’s Shelter in Brooklyn, New York.

The only one who has read these posts is LadyJDuchess. In fact, each post was written as a letter to her. I greatly appreciated all that she had done for me.

I’m still writing on a daily basis. I plan to write a post every day until I reach the same amount of time that I was in the shelter.

Since these were letters to her, I end each post by thanking her for being my friend.

We are both Born Again Christians and we don’t believe that God is angry with anyone. We’ve accepted Jesus as our Lord and Savior.  I was listening to a minister on television and he suggested that in times of difficulty one should say to themselves “We are in Christ and all is well”. This phrase has really helped me to stay focused on God and not my situation.

My stay in the shelter was unlike anything I had done before. I’m very glad that that experience is behind me.

I thank LadyJDuchess for being my friend.

We are in Christ and all is well.

I am the guy whose glass is always ½ full.





This Post Has 2 Comments

  1. Ladyjduchess

    “It’s in the shelter of each other that people live and thrive and have hope”. It’s a new day. Thank God you made it through. I’m rooting for you!!!

  2. Mr W

    Wow! Greatest post ever! Keep up the great work and your journey is a great inspiration to anyone who reads this. Love you old man!

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