A few weeks ago our family noticed a wreath on a park bench on Devine Street in front of Advance Auto Parts and Kmart. These flowers were in memory of a homeless man named Harold Peters.

Harold usually sat at this bench watching traffic and socializing with people waiting for the City bus. Harold would wave at my sister [Casey], my dad [Wes], and me [Jeani] as we drove by in my dad’s old truck. My dad stopped to talk to him a few times, and they began to be friends. Sometimes we would buy Harold a burger when he was down on his luck.

One day as we drove by the bench, Harold waved at our truck to stop. We pulled into the parking lot, and he gave our family a grocery bag full of cereal and food. Harold always tried to give back to people the generosity they had shown him.

Frances Slice and her co–workers became friends with Harold. They gave him batteries for his radio. In return Harold would look out for many of the businesses in that area.

Harold’s good friend, Jerry would play the guitar, and Harold would sing and play the harmonica. They especially liked Cajun music and would play between the buildings for all to hear.

Another friend, MacGuyver, a self–employed mechanic said, “Harold would watch over my cars when I worked on them in the parking lot. He loved to talk about classic cars and dogs.”

According to sources, Harold has been living on the streets for over 30 years. He was a veteran and spent the last couple of years in and out of the VA Hospital fighting diabetes.

Harold died on January 18, 2005. It was one of the coldest nights this year, and he was found behind one of the vacant buildings off Devine Street. Harold did have family, whom he spoke of warmly, but he chose for his own reasons to live on the street.

Harold was missing an eye and some fingers, apparently injuries from Viet Nam. Harold’s beauty was in his heart, his friendship touching everyone he would meet.