Jim & Bill

by Rick Rickman

Near the end of August, 1981, while I was working in Des Moines Iowa for the Des Moines Register, I was on my way to the capital building for a daily assignment, I came across two men lying in the shade of a tree on the front lawn of the capital building.   The scene was captivating because back in 1982 the epidemic of homelessness hadn’t manifested itself yet.  Mostly, people on the streets were usually there due to alcohol issues and unemployment.  This scene was so intriguing for me because these two gentlemen looked so alike that they could be brothers.

I walked over to the men and introduced myself.  I asked if they were brothers and the two laughed.  

“We get that all the time.”  The fellow speaking said, “My name is Bill and this is Jim”.  Jim waved and sat up with Bill.   Bill continued, “We aren’t related but we often share a bottle or two and today we were just trying to stay out of this horrible heat by lying under this tree. 

I asked Bill if they lived close.  He told me that they lived just a few blocks down the street.  I told the two that I’d love to get to know them better and maybe get some pictures.  Jim laugh and looked at Bill.  

“Did you hear that Bill?  This guy wants our picture.  I told you we were famous.”  I asked Jim if he was famous and laughed again.  “Oh yeah, we are famous alright.  We’ve been out here together for 14 years and everyone knows our names.”  

“Well,” I said, “I’m lucky to have met you today.  I don’t know many famous people.  I’ve got to go in the capital now to photograph one of Iowa’s state representatives but I really want talk with you some more if that’s ok.”

Bill said, “sure, you can find us most days down by the train tracks near the old switch house.”

Jim and Bill were certainly interesting people.  Bill had an amazing life before he ended up on the street.  He was a very talented airplane pilot who used to do acrobatic flying for a flying circus for several years.  He was also a very talented engineer who had several patents to his name.  He had been married and as an engineer was making very good money.  He told the story of how he began drinking and he said he discovered a real love for drinking.  His wife and family finally had had enough of his drunkenness and kicked him out of the house.  

Bill lost his job,  started living in vacant spaces and ended up on supplemental social security which continued to finance his life and drinking.  

At the same time Jim was just jumping from job to job and not doing well with any of the jobs he found.  He spent much of his time at local bars as well as bringing home more to drink.  In a mirror circumstance Jim’s family had had enough of drunkenness and threw Jim out of the house.  He was told never to come back unless he stopped drinking.

One afternoon in downtown Des Moines  the men found themselves drinking behind a lumber yard.  Jim had a gallon of thunderbird wine and he shared his treasure with Bill.  As the afternoon progressed the two started to forage for their dinner in the dumpsters behind the local shopping areas.  This became a norm for the two.  They discovered that Americans throw out a lot of good food.  

Time rolled on and 14 years later Jim and Bill were still together.  In about 1980, Jim and Bill found a new place to stay. Bill said that they jumped around from place to place for several years but finally got into the abandoned switch house from a railroad that for years ran through downtown. It was out of the mainstream for most citizens of Des Moines so there wasn’t much of a target on the two.   They foraged for a couple used mattresses and  then used the space for their living quarters.  The two were never really a concern for the people of Des Moines and many local business sorts often did their best to help the two out.  In fact, the owner of a local drug store agreed to let them use his address receive their Supplemental Social Security checks.

Bill held on to some of the norms of society and he always made sure that he took care of his clothing.  He often took the time to hang up his shirt and hat before lying down for a nap or the evening.  Each day started with a snort.  Usually Thunderbird wine if they had money and if not, they would dip into a bottle of rubbing alcohol and water.  

Often times when Jim got too drunk his disposition turned dark and antagonistic.  Once in a fight between the two men Jim drove an ice pick into Bill’s chest.  According to Bill, for several days he had a leak in his chest so he got some tape and covered the hole until it healed.   Jim would threaten Bill after drinking. One morning Jim  was ready to hit Bill with a brick.  After Bill talked him down a bit they would go to their favorite Walgreens to get a cup of coffee and Jim would regale their favorite waitress/friend with a new story from the street. 

It's no secret that it gets amazingly cold in Des Moines in the winter.  In 1982 Jim had to have a couple toes removed due to frost bite and often needs Bill’s assist to get around due to the toe losses.  The two men tried to stay out of the elements in the winder as often as financially possible.  

It was during one of those cold spells that Jim celebrated Bill’s birthday in a cheap flop house hotel.  It was a really fun day for the two and Bill got his favorite desert, pumpkin pie.  Jim bought a gallon of Thunderbird, the pumpkin pie, and put a candle in the middle of the pie which pleased Bill to no end.  They shared the pie on their bare mattress and then proceeded to drink themselves to sleep.  Staying in the flop house hotel was their least favorite situation even though it probably saved their lives, but they always seemed to get lice from the stay.  When that happens, they have to shave their hair off everywhere.  They long for the spring time when they can get back to their switch shack even though the mind-numbing down time is incessant.

Bill would always say,  “I don’t want people to feel sorry for us when they see this story. We are ok and living the way we want.”  That request not to have this story become a downer rang in my ears constantly.   On a warm spring morning I felt like I had found a way to lift the nature of this story to a happier level.  That morning, the two men sat on the edge of a lumber yard loading dock hitting their morning pick me up (Thunderbird).  The  back wall and loading door had been painted with a rainbow and Mona Lisa figure almost perfectly putting one possible end to the story for me.