I’d pass him in the morning as I traveled up 6th Avenue to the office.

He was always right beside a subway vent, trying keep warm from the bite of the early morning cold. Most of the time, he was asleep - making it easy for me and everyone else to walk on by and go about the day.

What was written on his beaten up, cardboard sign changed my heart.

“Please Help. Losing Hope.”

That message was a punch to the gut. His courage and perseverance in the face of an unimaginable situation blew me away. He kept going, even as his hope was fading.

I wanted to tell him how much he inspired me. I wanted to help him. I wanted him to know he was seen - not as a homeless 20-something on the street, but as a son, a nephew, a brother, a friend. But I was too afraid… until May 22, 2023.

I saw him from a few blocks away. I wanted this to finally be the day I stopped. The closer I got, the more nervous I became and the fear took me past him once again, but I was blessed with the courage in that moment to stop and turn around.

I knelt beside him and introduced myself. I said I didn’t have anything to give him, but that his sign gave me hope. We shared a short prayer and as I walked away, I was felt the call to offer dignity and help for Kelsey and the countless others in need.

So I started putting socks, a granola bar and $2 into ZipLock bags, and sharing them with the people I’d see on the street.

Each time I dropped off a bag, we’d catch up. I learned about who he was, where he was from, the stuff he liked… just a normal conversation between two dudes.

The last time I saw him, he smiled and said he had reconnected with his mom and was going home.

While I never saw Kelsey again, I recognize him in every person that is suffering and losing hope.

BagMan is a small way to serve others, offering help, hope and healing…
one bag at a time.