thedrifter
06-14-07, 06:03 AM
Cop enables Marine's dying wish
By ROCHELLE E.B. GILKEN
Palm Beach Post Staff Writer
Thursday, June 14, 2007
WEST PALM BEACH — It was a small favor, $121 for a bus ticket.
Yet it was enough for James Willis to do something he didn't think he could: He will die with dignity.
Willis is a Vietnam veteran with cancer in his blood and bones who says he has been homeless in Palm Beach County for 20 years.
He lived with ants and rodents, begged for spare change and spent it on as much Natural Ice as he could get.
Chemotherapy, twice a week for the last three months, caused too many flashbacks, and he doesn't want to go back to the Veterans Affairs hospital. Doctors gave the 55-year-old less than 60 days.
"I ain't taking no more," Willis said, bawling at the bus stop, sores visible on his arms below his cross and eagle tattoos. "I don't want to die in the woods, and I don't got that long left to live, and I'm going home."
He wants to spend his last days with his only remaining family, a half brother named Ronnie in his hometown of Greensboro, N.C.
On Wednesday, he boarded the 1:35 p.m. Greyhound bus that will, after a few transfers, drop him off about noon today.
His savior: Palm Beach County sheriff's Cpl. Karl Martin, who first met Willis when he arrested him a year ago for drinking in public. It wasn't Willis' first arrest - he's had 25 in Florida - but it was his last.
Since then, Martin checked on the fellow Marine every other day. Willis confided that he was dying and wanted to see his brother again.
Martin called the Marine Corps League. The organization confirmed Willis' story of duty and illness, called his brother and bought the ticket. It also threw in $40 cash for food and drinks.
"There's no reason for any veteran in this country to be living in the woods somewhere," said Robert McKenna, past commandant of the Marine Corps League. "No veteran should die and end up in a pauper's grave."
He said the league in Greensboro will stay in touch with Willis and make sure he receives a proper veteran's burial.
"At least we're allowing him to die in peace with pride and dignity."
Willis has few plans for the rest of his life. He will have a long conversation with his brother. He will cry. Sleep in a bed. Eat Southern cooking. Watch television. And enjoy the comfort of life, back where he started.
He doesn't say how he ended up in Palm Beach County. After the Marines he worked as a landscaper, he said. He lost his job and his wife in 1987 and has been on the streets ever since, he said.
He lived in the woods at Gun Club Road and Military Trail in suburban West Palm Beach, his home just out of sight of the road where he often asked drivers for money. Sometimes they gave him money, beer or cigarettes. Sometimes they threw trash
He slept in a blue tent weighted down by a tire rim, set up next to a palm tree with an American flag stuck in the trunk. He had a table with a couple of jugs, dog bowls and shaving cream.
On Wednesday morning, he said goodbye to his girlfriend and his homeless pals, the Tortorici brothers. The Tortoricis are his best friends, and they were happy to see him move on. They even bought him a ticket to North Carolina about two years ago.
But back then, Willis wouldn't go. He couldn't explain why.
"We tried to get him to go before. I want to see him go home," said Patrick Tortorici, 42. "He was crying last night about leaving us."
Finally, Willis is heading out. He leaned on his cane at the bus stop, carrying his cooler and dragging a suitcase full of recently donated clothes.
"I don't care who gets the tent," he said. "Whoever finds it can have it."
"I'll be at my brother's house."
Ellie
By ROCHELLE E.B. GILKEN
Palm Beach Post Staff Writer
Thursday, June 14, 2007
WEST PALM BEACH — It was a small favor, $121 for a bus ticket.
Yet it was enough for James Willis to do something he didn't think he could: He will die with dignity.
Willis is a Vietnam veteran with cancer in his blood and bones who says he has been homeless in Palm Beach County for 20 years.
He lived with ants and rodents, begged for spare change and spent it on as much Natural Ice as he could get.
Chemotherapy, twice a week for the last three months, caused too many flashbacks, and he doesn't want to go back to the Veterans Affairs hospital. Doctors gave the 55-year-old less than 60 days.
"I ain't taking no more," Willis said, bawling at the bus stop, sores visible on his arms below his cross and eagle tattoos. "I don't want to die in the woods, and I don't got that long left to live, and I'm going home."
He wants to spend his last days with his only remaining family, a half brother named Ronnie in his hometown of Greensboro, N.C.
On Wednesday, he boarded the 1:35 p.m. Greyhound bus that will, after a few transfers, drop him off about noon today.
His savior: Palm Beach County sheriff's Cpl. Karl Martin, who first met Willis when he arrested him a year ago for drinking in public. It wasn't Willis' first arrest - he's had 25 in Florida - but it was his last.
Since then, Martin checked on the fellow Marine every other day. Willis confided that he was dying and wanted to see his brother again.
Martin called the Marine Corps League. The organization confirmed Willis' story of duty and illness, called his brother and bought the ticket. It also threw in $40 cash for food and drinks.
"There's no reason for any veteran in this country to be living in the woods somewhere," said Robert McKenna, past commandant of the Marine Corps League. "No veteran should die and end up in a pauper's grave."
He said the league in Greensboro will stay in touch with Willis and make sure he receives a proper veteran's burial.
"At least we're allowing him to die in peace with pride and dignity."
Willis has few plans for the rest of his life. He will have a long conversation with his brother. He will cry. Sleep in a bed. Eat Southern cooking. Watch television. And enjoy the comfort of life, back where he started.
He doesn't say how he ended up in Palm Beach County. After the Marines he worked as a landscaper, he said. He lost his job and his wife in 1987 and has been on the streets ever since, he said.
He lived in the woods at Gun Club Road and Military Trail in suburban West Palm Beach, his home just out of sight of the road where he often asked drivers for money. Sometimes they gave him money, beer or cigarettes. Sometimes they threw trash
He slept in a blue tent weighted down by a tire rim, set up next to a palm tree with an American flag stuck in the trunk. He had a table with a couple of jugs, dog bowls and shaving cream.
On Wednesday morning, he said goodbye to his girlfriend and his homeless pals, the Tortorici brothers. The Tortoricis are his best friends, and they were happy to see him move on. They even bought him a ticket to North Carolina about two years ago.
But back then, Willis wouldn't go. He couldn't explain why.
"We tried to get him to go before. I want to see him go home," said Patrick Tortorici, 42. "He was crying last night about leaving us."
Finally, Willis is heading out. He leaned on his cane at the bus stop, carrying his cooler and dragging a suitcase full of recently donated clothes.
"I don't care who gets the tent," he said. "Whoever finds it can have it."
"I'll be at my brother's house."
Ellie