Personal Writing #1 (Journal Entry)

 

No One Should Live in a Subway Station

 

(The following is a journal entry written from the standpoint of Chris Gardner, after the scene above.)

 

January 15, 1981

Wow. What a day today was. First off I must say that my son, at 6 years of age, is a trooper. Nothing shy of one strong, determined, trooper. Christopher tagged along with me all morning as I tried sellin’ more bone density scanners. Of course I made no progress, making it yet another day filled with frustration and defeat.

Tonight, as Christopher and I sat in the empty subway station, with nowhere to go to rest for the evening, Christopher asked me, “Dad, where are we going?... WHERE ARE WE GOING?!”  I snapped and told him I had no idea. I can honestly say that that is one of the worst feelings in this world- to have to look at your 6 year old son and tell him that you don’t know where he can sleep that night. NO young boy should ever have no place to call home, no mommy to cry to, no stable life whatsoever. Frustrated, I did the best I could at that moment- I told Christopher that my briefcase was a time machine. I told him that once we pushed a button on my briefcase, we would be in the land of dinosaurs. He went right along with my game. After we pushed the button together, we both started imagining and playing just like there were dinosaurs all around us. THIS is what a 6 year old should be doing. Playing- not worrying about where to sleep at night and where to find food.

As we ran around, escaping the dinosaurs, I urgently told Christopher that we needed to get away! I ran over to the bathroom, and told Christopher that it was a cave to keep us safe from the dinosaurs. We both went in and I locked the door behind me. That was our home for the night.  As I made a bed of paper towels on the floor, I could see the tiredness and exhaustion in little Christopher’s eyes. I sat on the floor and let him lay his head on my lap. He fell asleep in about 3 minutes. As I sat there reviewing the day’s events, there came a pounding on the door. I knew it was the subway security guards- ready to kick us out. I just sat there, holding Christopher’s ears tight so he did not wake up. Once the knocking stopped, I broke down and began to sob. I made a promise to myself in that moment- a promise to get both myself and Christopher out of this mess. A promise to find a life that would support and be able to raise my son properly. No matter what anybody tells me, I WILL get out of this mess. I ain’t stoppin’ ‘til I do.