My father and I were standing beside his brand-new car, admiring the sleek black paint and shiny chrome details. I was already thinking about when I could take it out for a spin.
Suddenly, a homeless man shuffled over. His ragged appearance seemed out of place next to us as he stopped a few feet away.
“Excuse me, sir. I don’t mean to bother you, but… if you have any work, I’d be glad to earn a few dollars. I can wash the car or… clean your shoes.”
I looked at him, repulsed by his appearance.
“No, thanks,” I snapped. “I don’t want you touching my stuff with those dirty hands.”
The man didn’t respond. He didn’t argue or make a scene. He just gave a small nod and walked away, disappearing into the city crowd like he was used to hearing that kind of response.
I felt a strange satisfaction as if I’d defended my world. My father had been quiet the entire time. Later that evening, though, he called me into his study, his face unusually serious.
“Declan,” he started, “I’ve watched you live your life without any understanding of what’s really important.”
I frowned, not knowing where this was going.
He continued, “That man today… you treated him like he was less than human. That attitude is going to destroy you. You think money makes you better, but it’s the one thing that can ruin you.”
I tried to interrupt, but he raised his hand.
“From now on, you’re not getting another dollar from me until you learn to be a decent person. No money, no inheritance, nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“I mean, you’re going to earn everything on your own. I’m giving you these clothes from the second-hand store, and that’s it. You need to learn the value of money, Declan.”
That wasn’t just talk. I found my accounts frozen. No more luxury, no more easy life. I was left with nothing and no way out.
The first days on the street were nothing short of humiliating. One minute, I was surrounded by luxury, and the next, I was searching for a spot to escape the cold.
The reality of it all hit me harder with each passing day. I always thought it could never happen to me. Yet there I was, shivering under a bridge, wishing for even a fraction of what I once had.
My mind kept drifting back to Layla. I had promised her a night out somewhere elegant and expensive, a place worthy of her beauty.
But now, what will she think if she sees me like this?
I wore ragged clothes, had unwashed hair, and had no money in my pockets. The thought of showing up in this state was unbearable. On the second day under the bridge, I heard a voice.
“Hey, are you alright?”
A young woman was standing in front of me.
“You look like you could use some help,” she said, offering me a hand.
I hesitated for a second, ashamed of what I had become. But I had no choice.
“I’m a volunteer at a shelter nearby,” she said. “It’s not fancy, but it’s warm, and we can get you cleaned up and something to eat.”
She led me down a few streets until we reached a modest house. The furniture was worn, but it didn’t matter. After spending nights under the open sky, it felt like a palace.
Mia motioned me to sit.
“Here, let me get you something to drink,” she said as she handed me a cup of hot tea. “This place isn’t much, but we try to make it comfortable for everyone who comes through.”
I looked around. “Why are you helping me?”
“It’s my job to help. But more than that, I know life can turn upside down in the blink of an eye. I’ve seen people from all walks of life come through here. You’re not alone in this.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I nodded, grateful for the first bit of kindness I had felt in days.
Later, Mia brought me clean clothes and showed me how to clean up.
“I know things seem bad now,” she said as I combed my hair in the mirror, “but you can get through this.”
Her kindness gave me hope.
The next day, Mia helped me prepare for a job interview at a local restaurant.
“It’s not glamorous, but it’s a start.”
I knew she was right. I had to start somewhere. The interview was short, and I began my duties immediately.
I started doing the dirtiest work: taking out the trash, mopping floors, washing dishes. It was tough, but I kept reminding myself that I had to earn enough to stay at a motel and buy decent clothes for the date.
Each day was hard, but with Mia’s support, I started to believe I could face whatever came next.
A week of hard work passed, and it felt like the longest week of my life. Every day at the restaurant was a struggle. My hands, once soft and unblemished, were now calloused from mopping floors and scrubbing grease off dirty dishes.
It seemed like everything was working against me. Plates always slipped from my grasp, buckets of water splashed over my shoes. Each time something went wrong, the manager was quick to pounce.
“Declan, can’t you do anything right?” he barked one afternoon as I fumbled with a tray of dirty dishes. “This isn’t a playground. You mess up again, and you’re out!”
I could feel the stares of the other employees burning into my back, but I just nodded, biting my tongue. My pride had already taken enough hits.
Outside, as I walked home from work, I heard kids running down the street, laughing loudly.
“Look at him!” one of them shouted, pointing at me. “He can’t even walk straight!”
They giggled as I stumbled, my feet dragging from exhaustion.
When I’d finally make it back to the shelter, I’d go straight to the shower. Every night, I collapsed onto the bed, too tired to even think, only to wake up and do it all over again the next day.
By the end of the week, payday came, and I eagerly opened the small envelope, hoping it would be enough to keep me going. But inside were only a few crumpled bills.
“That’s it?” I muttered, stunned.
The restaurant owner looked at me coldly.
“You’re homeless. And you’re an awful worker. Be glad I gave you anything at all.”
At that moment, I saw myself in the homeless man I had once insulted. I finally understood what it felt like to be treated as if you didn’t matter.
Despite everything I had been through, I decided to go on that long-promised date with Layla. I hoped she would see me for more than the wealth and status I used to flaunt.
I arrived at the café, my palms sweating. Layla walked in, her high heels clicking sharply against the floor. She was just as stunning as ever. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe.
“Declan,” she sighed, “I thought you’d at least show up in a decent suit. What happened to the car? I expected dinner at that fancy place downtown, not… this.”
She gestured around at the modest café, her voice dripping with frustration.
“I’m sorry, Layla. Things have changed for me. I don’t have the money I used to, but I thought maybe we could still…”
She cut me off, shaking her head.
“I’m not here to help you rebuild yourself, Declan. If you can’t offer me the life I deserve, then what’s the point?”
Her words were like a slap in the face, but they were also the truth I needed to hear. Layla wasn’t the woman I thought she was. She was just a reflection of my old shallow life built on appearances and material things.
After she left, I sat there for a few minutes, processing it all. In my old world, I would have been crushed, but now, I no longer needed to chase after someone who only valued me for money.
With the little money I had earned, I bought a box of pastries from a local bakery. As I walked through the park, I spotted the homeless man I had insulted weeks ago. I handed him the box.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For how I treated you before. You didn’t deserve that.”
“We all have bad days,” he said simply, accepting the pastries.
His words lifted a bit of a weight off my shoulders. Then, with the last bit of cash I had, I bought a big bouquet of roses and headed to the shelter.
Mia was there, as always, helping others with a warm smile on her face. I handed her the flowers.
“Thank you, Mia. For everything. I don’t know where I’d be without your help. I was wondering… would you like to go for coffee with me sometime?”
Mia’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that, Declan.”
At that moment, I realized something I hadn’t understood before. Life isn’t about money or status, or how you look to others. It’s about the people who lift you up, who see you for who you really are, and help you become better.
My father appeared later that evening and admitted he had been watching me all along.
“I’m proud of you, son,” he said quietly. “Let’s go home.”
And for the first time, I felt like I had earned it.
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Actress Anne Heche Dead at 53 After High-Speed Car Crash
Anne Heche has died of a brain injury and severe burns after speeding and crashing her car into a home in the residential Mar Vista neighborhood last Friday, Aug 5. The building erupted in flames and Heche was dragged out of the vehicle and rushed to the Grossman Burn Center at West Hills Hospital in Los Angeles.
The 53-year-old, Emmy Award-winning actress is best known for her roles in 1990s films like Volcano, the Gus Van Sant remake of Psycho, Donnie Brasco and Six Days, Seven Nights.
Holly Baird, a spokesperson for Heche’s family, sent NPR a statement Friday afternoon saying: “While Anne is legally dead according to California law, her heart is still beating, and she has not been taken off life support.”
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Baird added an organ procurement company is working to see if the actress is a match for organ donation, and that determination could be made as early as Saturday or as late as next Tuesday.
Heche launched her career playing a pair of good and evil twins on the long-running daytime soap opera Another World, for which she earned a Daytime Emmy Award in 1991.
In the 2000s, Heche focused on making independent movies and TV series. She acted with Nicole Kidman and Cameron Bright in the drama Birth; with Jessica Lange and Christina Ricci in the film adaptation of Prozac Nation, Elizabeth Wurtzel’s bestselling book about depression; and in the comedy Cedar Rapids alongside John C. Reilly and Ed Helms. She also starred in the ABC drama series Men in Trees.
Heche made guest appearances on TV shows like Nip/Tuck and Ally McBeal and starred in a couple of Broadway productions, garnering a Tony Award nomination for her performance in the remount of the 1932 comedy Twentieth Century.
In 2020, Heche launched a weekly lifestyle podcast, Better Together, with friend and co-host Heather Duffy and appeared on Dancing with the Stars.
Heche became a lesbian icon as a result of her highly-visible relationship with comedian and TV host Ellen DeGeneres in the late 1990s.
Heche and DeGeneres were arguably the most famous openly gay couple in Hollywood at a time when being out was far less acceptable than it is today. Heche later claimed the romance took a toll on her career. “I was in a relationship with Ellen DeGeneres for three-and-a-half years and the stigma attached to that relationship was so bad that I was fired from my multimillion-dollar picture deal and I did not work in a studio picture for 10 years,” Heche said in an episode of Dancing with the Stars.
But the relationship paved the way for broader acceptance of single-sex partnerships.
“With so few role models and representations of lesbians in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Anne Heche’s relationship with Ellen DeGeneres contributed to her celebrity in a significant way and their relationship ultimately validated lesbian love for both straight and queer people,” said the Los Angeles-based New York Times columnist Trish Bendix.
Bendix said that while Heche was later in relationships with men — she married Coleman Laffoon in the early 2000s and they had a son together, and was more recently in a relationship with Canadian actor James Tupper with whom she also had a son — “her influence on lesbian and bisexual visibility can’t and shouldn’t be erased.”
In 2000, Fresh Air host Terry Gross interviewed Heche in advance of her directorial debut on the final episode of If These Walls Could Talk 2, a series of three HBO television films exploring the lives of lesbian couples starring DeGeneres and Sharon Stone. In the interview, Heche said she wished she had been more sensitive about other people’s coming out experiences when she and DeGeneres went public with their relationship.
“What I wish I would have known is more of the journey and the struggle of individuals in the gay community or couples in the gay community,” Heche said. “Because I would have couched my enthusiasm with an understanding that this isn’t everybody’s story.”
Heche was born in Aurora, Ohio in 1969, the youngest of five siblings. She was raised in a Christian fundamentalist household.
She had a challenging childhood. The family moved around a lot. She said she believed her father, Donald, was a closeted gay man; he died in 1983 of HIV.
“He just couldn’t seem to settle down into a normal job, which, of course, we found out later, and as I understand it now, was because he had another life,” Heche told Gross on Fresh Air. “He wanted to be with men.”
A few months after her father died, Heche’s brother Nathan was killed in a car crash at the age of 18.
In her 2001 Memoir Call Me Crazy, and in subsequent interviews, Heche said her father abused her sexually as a child, triggering mental health issues which the actress said she carried with her for decades as an adult.
In an interview with the actress for Larry King Live, host Larry King called Heche’s book, “one of the most honest, outspoken, extraordinary autobiographies ever written by anyone in show business.”
“I am left with a deep, wordless sadness,” wrote Heche’s son with Lafoon, Homer, in a statement shared with NPR via Baird. “Hopefully my mom is free from pain and beginning to explore what I like to imagine as her eternal freedom.”
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