In between. . .

Classic case of "between a rock and a hard place" for us at CitySquare.

See the video posted below.

On the one hand, the pressure created by the time frame to "move along" imposed on the people living in this encampment made it nearly impossible to transition folks from the street to housing.

We could have refused to be involved in the removal.

On the other, we couldn't walk away from so many friends and neighbors who endured the trauma of being removed.

We know most of these people. Our Homeless Outreach Team interviewed every one of them in an attempt to begin the process of moving toward permanent housing.  We had no choice but to be with them and attempt to ease their burden, even if inadequately.

Dallas (City and County) and its leaders need to stop, take stock and recognize the fact that every homeless person on our streets is just as important as the person living in the best housing available. Homeless persons are citizens and constituents, and must not continually be defined as a problem.

I believe the Mayor's Commission on Homelessness provides us the opportunity to "re-boot" and approach the challenge in a much different, more comprehensive manner.

Time will tell.

I know one thing for sure: Dallas must do better.


 

Flowers for mom. . .

The "native Texas" plant (read here "weed") in full bloom appeared on our makeshift communion table/altar at Church at the Square last Sunday. It had been carefully prepared for the occasion of Mother's Day by one of the fairly regular members of the church. 

Planted in a disposable coffee cup, wrapped carefully in tin foil, with pieces of bark and black earth, the gentleman placed it carefully among the symbols of our faith arrayed on the table of the Lord.

"I brought this for Mother's Day," he declared with a smile on his face and a compelling twinkle in his eye.  "I wanted us to remember our moms on this special day." 

After the morning service concluded, the church enjoyed breakfast brunch prepared by culinary arts students from CitySquare. 

When the morning concluded, the man retrieved his plant and went on his way--back out on to the streets of Dallas, his only option.  No doubt, he intended to enjoy the beauty of his and God's creation for a while longer. 

A sweet gift offered in appreciation for mothers, including his and mine. A respect for what's good in life and the world. 

I'm thankful for my brother who brought new meaning to the day and to our communion together.

Blocked?

The "Tent City" nestled beneath the I-45 overpass here in South Dallas gives rise to all sorts of frustrations. 

The City of Dallas' humane decision to place portable toilets and trash dumpsters on the property triggered the explosive growth of the encampment.  As the community grew, rumors spread across town that case management into permanent housing happened quicker at Tent City.  So, predictably, the population grew.  And, it got organized:  streets, identified sections, an elected Mayor, at least one retail store selling basic snacks and sundries. 

But along with the normal human responses to an organized community of sorts came really negative realities:  ill-health, fights, other violence, including more than one murder, drug trafficking, prostitution, rape, theft and other compromises to public health and safety.

Here's where my litany of frustration begins:

1. The city had no real choice in the short term but to close the encampment.  And, the City is at work today doing just that.  Case workers, but not nearly enough of them, have been working for 5 or 6 weeks trying to arrange housing solutions for as many people as possible among the almost 500 who populated the encampment at its population apex.  Some people moved in with friends/family.  Some decided to go home to other cities (but very few fit that grouping).  Some opted for moving to other locations or encampments located across the city.  Some agreed to use the shelter services available.  Some found permanent supportive housing and/or single voucher assets.  Still, a large number of persons do not have a housing plan as they are forced to move from what was their community.

2.  The city does not have an adequate supply of permanent supportive housing to meet the obvious needs of the community. A large part of the problem is a lack of funds and political will to develop this much-needed housing stock.  Without the housing we are fighting a battle with one arm tied behind our collective back.

3. State funds from the Texas Department of Housing and Community Affairs (TDHCA) can be used only for developments located in "high opportunity" communities.  This means that new projects cannot be located in most parts of the community by the standards established in the recent U. S. Supreme Court decision regarding the disparate impact of siting housing efforts only in low-income or low opportunity areas.  In practical terms this means that new projects will need to be located in some of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city and/or in suburban or exurban communities.  The price of land and the organized resistance from such communities make it nearly impossible to use TDHCA tax credit funds as we've done in the past. 

4. Routinely, landlords and property owners refuse to accept housing vouchers and funds from our local Continuum of Care, both U. S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) to pay rents.  "Source of payment" discrimination is normative. These days a very hot housing market allows property management more options for leasing, with the net result being that the very poor get kicked out and left out of housing in favor of a "better, less troubling clientele."

5. The basic duplicity of our community response is maddening.  On the one hand we all care about homelessness in general, right?  On the other, we resist its arrival if in our neighborhoods. We organize not in favor of its development, but to oppose it.

6. The silence of both communities of faith and of political groups in face of this pressing human tragedy remains as unsettling as it is frustrating. 

What will we do, Dallas, what will we do?

One Voice

[What follows is an email message I received after the publication of my Op-Ed essay in The Dallas Morning News on last Monday.  I found it very helpful, as well as inspirational in its own very unique and personal way.]

 

I just read your article on Facebook concerning the homeless and the mentally ill. . . .I live on the poverty level and am mentally ill.  I have Bipolar Disorder with Mania and Depression.  I was a school teacher for 20 years in Lancaster, DeSoto and then Dallas ISD.  Because teaching 6, 7 and 8th graders are so challenging and dealing with the Standardized test, my PA suggested I retire on disability.  I did.  I then worked in retail for 7 years in a declining market.  3 of the 5 stores I worked for closed their doors.  I haven't worked in 4 years.  However,  I do have a interview with Nordstrom on Wednesday and maybe I can start getting back on my feet again.  I lost my car due to an accident and now take the bus.  It is going to be very challenging to take the bus, especially late into the night.  However,  I am going to try my hardest to accomplish this goal. With my little Teacher Retirement, I bring home $1,200 a month.  I cannot live on this. I have to work. I eat so many sandwiches and crackers it is not even funny.  I also take 6 medications to relieve my Bipolar Disorder and Anxiety.  Because I am not on Medicare or Medicaid, I make these co-pays myself. 

What has strengthened me more through all of this is my everlasting relationship I have found with God.  I no longer worry about my future like I use to, but it is very difficult and unnerving to say the least. I find myself on the streets riding the bus talking to all kinds of homeless people.  Most of them have a mental illness, most are very bright, and have at one time been successful.  I too, could follow in this footstep of not having a roof over my head.  The rent, water, electricity keep going up and my check stays the same.

It is very difficult to maintain any sense of normalcy due to my illness.  What I have found, is through my experience, I am able to filter a lot of the mental illness kind of like a schizophrenic not listening to voices.  

I think there is so much more American's can do to help the homeless.  I was very proud to have read your article tonight.  Right now I am not able to help the homeless or mentally ill, however, in my prayers tonight,  I will pray that I may be able to help in the future.

Thank you so much for your article that softens my heart concerning the homeless and mentally ill.  I may not be able to put my heater on as high as I would like, but right now I do have a roof over my head.  Thank you again for such a touching article.

Sincerely,

JS

 

Amazing growth in poverty. . .will we wake up?

This is amazing and disturbing.

Our current trajectory as a nation and an economy is not sustainable socially, economically, or morally.    

Simple fact:  Poverty must be reduced. 

Sick. . .and tired

Last Thursday we took part in a "big event" out at the Opportunity Center just across the street from "the Corner." 

A number of our community partners showed up to be with us. 

We served several hundred meals. 

People were pleasant, engaging and joyful--on both sides of the resource line!

The folks who came with the meals did a superb job in delivering them.  It wasn't just another "hand out.'  The volunteers from this company really spent time with the homeless poor who came to retrieve a box lunch.

But, simple "retrieval" wasn't possible with this group. 

If you came, you talked to these people, both at the service line and then in lawn chairs arranged for conversation! 

For them, it wasn't about the meal. 

No, it was about the common humanity of everyone. 

Beautiful event. 

In the midst of it I walked up the street a bit to invite others to join us. 

As I walked, I spotted him.

A man, slightly built, about 60-years-old, I'd hunch.

He looked ill. 

His skin tone was deeply yellowish, betraying possible liver disease. 

He was sitting on the curb resting his feet on a drain opening. 

I invited him to join us for lunch.

The only word in his reply that I could hear was "sick." 

"Are you feeling sick," I asked. "Do I need to call for a doctor?"

"No!" he snapped back.  "I said, 'I'm sick of stale sandwiches,'" he explained. 

"I'm sure you are and I'm sorry," I replied before retreating up the street further. 

He told me the truth.  (Actually, the sandwiches this time were boxed, beautiful and not stale, but this gentleman had been to plenty of our rodeos!)  He'd eaten my sandwiches before and he was tired.

In reality, what he was tired of was having to depend upon and settle for what I decided to bring his way. 

He wanted more, and he wanted more on his terms.

I wasn't offended at all. 

He just told me the truth as he saw and experienced it.

I left our encounter more determined than ever to work for the development of more permanent supportive housing.

Someday, I hope to watch him move into an apartment of his own where he can prepare his own meals, as he likes them.

If I'm lucky, maybe he'll invite me to dine with him in a home of his own.

a bare necessity

You may not think of it very often, if at all--that is, unless you are the "needy" one!

The fact is, Dallas has a dearth of public restroom facilities.  This is especially the case in the downtown business district. 

Meditate with me for just a moment, okay? 

Relax for a moment and close your eyes.

Well, er, I guess the "close your eyes" idea won't work unless you read the entire post and then close your eyes. 

But you get my point:  spend a moment to remember a time when you really needed a restroom, but couldn't find one. 

How did that work for you?

Likely, you found what you needed in a store or an office building or a hotel.  Likely, that was because you either were a customer or you looked like one. 

For our homeless friends life doesn't work that way most of the time.

One of the reasons why so many homeless persons have criminal records for "public indecency" is because they are caught relieving themselves without the benefit of an accessible restroom. 

Last Thursday I met an elderly gentleman. 

His hair was snow white. 

His skin was tanned. 

His legs, extending from walking shorts, evidenced symptoms of diabetes.

He was very quiet and reserved. 

I moved on after a few moments. 

Later I spotted him beside the old house on the corner with his back to the street. 

He urinated into the grass for a long time. 

He had to go.  Just like me. 

Humans are funny like that. 

Difference is he has no money or power, while I have plenty of both.

We need downtown public restrooms, and we need them badly.

Data: Extreme poverty

Last week an unsettling report came across my desk.

Prepared by one of our Neighbor Support Services team members who engages directly with the thousands of people who come to us for assistance of one kind or another at our Resource Center on Haskell Avenue, the report noted that 64.17% of our neighbors who receive case management services learn less than $10,000 annually.

An additional, small group, (6.84%) earns between $10,001 and $20,000 annually.  An even smaller additional group (4.23%) earns between $20,001 and $30,000 each year.

Almost 80% of the people we touch live in Dallas County.

We work with the poorest of the poor, and the vast, vast majority are not homeless; they are the working poor who understand the toxic stress of the constant pressure of extreme poverty.

Ignoring this challenging reality will not serve us or our community well.

No Corner today

Today snow, ice and cold shut us down at CitySquare.

Our kitchen in the Pantry closed.

Our food warehouse went dark.

Everyone either stayed at home or left early to get there as the weather worsened.

So, I didn't go the "the Corner" today.

No food or drink or coffee to share.

I didn't go, but some of my dear friends did. . .they live there and have few options.

The Corner has taught me that poverty offers few options and often no really good choices.

So, we didn't go.

But they were there in the snow, ice, wind, and what I expect felt like gray hunger.

The Corner has quickened my understanding of things.  It has altered my memory and my experience.

It snowed unexpectedly in Dallas today.

Many of my friends found themselves outside.

It is not enough to remember or to know.

My friends deserve so much more.  They deserve better.

As I say, it is not enough to remember or to know.

Tiresome

I've got it good.

I have a place that I refer to as home, complete with running water, bathrooms, a kitchen,  comfortable beds and lots of furniture, electricity, books, televisions; you know, the list goes on and on.

I can never remember going hungry, unless it was one of the very few times I've fasted intentionally.  Like everyone else, I get hungry everyday.  But, going hungry?  Not me!

I have cars.  Not just one, cars.  Whenever I want to go somewhere, I go.  Often, I fly.

I have plenty of clothing in closets--again, not just one.  My sock drawer is running over, sort of like my closets.  I did mention multiples, right?  And shoes?  Too many for one of my closets.

I've had lots of education--informal and formal, with degrees and future options for more.

I have a great family, lots of colleagues and crowds of friends.

I'm welcomed almost everywhere I go.  I get lots of invitations to join folks for fun, interesting events.

People accommodate my needs, my mistakes, my selfishness and my expressed desires, almost all of the time.

When I mess things up, people pull around to compensate, to make up for the ground I've lost.  Or, they confront me with my poor performance, while doing whatever it takes to get me back on track.

I am loved.

I am cared for.

I am encouraged.

___________________________________

 

Last Thursday, as I stood on the red hot sidewalk out at "the Corner," I watched scores of homeless friends stop by for a cold drink of water or Gatorade, a piece of fresh fruit and a snack. 

 

One guy stood out.

 

He was not exceptional in any way, really.  If anything, he was typical.

 

But, somehow I really saw him.  Know what I mean?

 

My hunch is he is younger than me, maybe mid-50s, but he looked much older.

 

His shoes were broken down, run over and about shot.

 

He was barely limping along. 

 

He was so very hot.

 

His brown jeans were filthy, as was his white shirt.

 

He seemed in a daze, not due to the abuse of any substance, but likely induced by too much "street" time in  the heat. 

 

I have no idea why he stood out to me.

 

As I directed him to a cold beverage and a snack, I was overcome with emotion. 

 

My life circumstance flooded over me, as did what I imagined of his. 

 

I had to brush back tears. 

 

This is Dallas.

 

This is the street.

 

This is slow death.

 

This is injustice.

 

How I respond to that one man is the ultimate test of my faith, my life and my heart.  

Nice job, President Bush!

The Daily Beast reports some good news about national progress in ending homelessness for those trapped in the most extreme poverty.  Very encouraging report that highlights the vital nature of permanent housing.

Fewer Homeless, a Bush Legacy

by David Frum Apr 29, 2013 4:00 PM EDT

Spencer Platt/Getty Images

My CNN column focuses on a major domestic policy achievement by George W. Bush: combating homelessness.

Have you noticed that homelessness isn't worse? Here we are, living through the most protracted joblessness crisis since the Great Depression -- and surprisingly, fewer people are living on the street.

The federal Department of Housing and Urban Development reported that the number of the chronically homeless declined by 30% between 2005 and 2007. You might have expected the numbers to spike again when the financial crisis hit but no. Since 2007, the number of chronic homeless has dropped another 19%.

A broader measure of the number of homeless counts the number of people living out of doors on one randomly chosen night. That broader measure has also improved through the economic crisis. Between January 2011 and January 2012, homelessness among veterans dropped by 7%.

To what or whom do we owe this good news?

In very large part, we owe it to the president whose library opened in Dallas last week: George W. Bush.

For three decades, we have debated what causes homelessness and how to deal with it. Is homelessness a mental health problem? A substance abuse problem? A problem caused by gentrification and urban redevelopment? Or something else again?

The Bush administration substituted a much simpler idea -- an idea that happened to work. Whatever the cause of homelessness, the solution is ... a home.

Read the entire report here. 

Not surprising at all. . .

Everyone likes a good story.  You know, a narrative to put alongside data and collective impressions.  I'd argue that this story is not all that atypical from what I've witnessed on the streets. 

"I asked him ... 'I don't know if you remember me, but I think I gave you something that's very precious to me,' and he says, 'Was it a ring? Yeah, I have it, I kept it for you,'" Darling said.

She was floored.

Read the entire story here.  

Death back of a church

Matt Peterson reports the inevitable in a story posted to the Dallas Morning News "Scoop Blog" on Wednesday morning.  A day after the inspirational report regarding 500 homeless persons spending the night at the new Omni Hotel and receiving first class treatment, one of our not-so-fortunate neighbors froze to death in an ally behind an East Dallas Church building located in my neighborhood. 

 

Here's Peterson's report: 

 

A homeless man was found “frozen behind a church” in Old East Dallas this morning, according to a police report.

 

The man, who was in his 60s, apparently died overnight and was found about 8 a.m. outside Emanuel Lutheran Church in the 4300 block of San Jacinto Street.

 

“We’re very, very saddened by the situation,” said Julio Cruz-Natal, the church’s pastor. He said the man may have been there to get a meal from the church’s food pantry, but he was not familiar to anyone there.

 

Authorities have yet to identify the victim, and his cause of death will be determined by the medical examiner’s office. There were no obvious signs of trauma.

 

But with overnight temperatures dropping into the 20s and wind chills in the single digits, it was a dangerous night to spend in the elements.

 

Cruz-Natal said the brutal cold overnight may have left the man with few alternatives.

“Most of the shelters were at capacity, and I wonder if that’s what happened last night,” he said.

 

__________________________________________

 

Some may ask, "How does such a thing happen in Dallas, Texas?" 

 

I say, "Why the surprise?" 

 

Our community response to the issues associated with chronic homelessness, especially among the disabled and the young, remains inadequate at best. 

 

The emergency shelters were likely very crowded last night.  But shelters do not provide any real answer to the problem.  Housing is the best and only answer.  Permanent housing with robust, high-touch, high-care support services.  As a community we need to partner with the shelter providers to empty their beds as we place these very special neighbors into real housing. 

 

The time has come for "over-investment" to compensate for the head start this challenge has on us.  I hope, if you live in Dallas, you'll call, email and write your city council member and Mayor Mike Rawlings.  Let them know that you are ready to join the fight and that it is time to take the entire effort to the next level.  I intend to volunteer to my council representative, Pauline Medrano, that I'm ready to pay into a special fund to address this life and death issue.  Call it a levy of compassion, call it a tax, call it what you will.  The time has come to act and to act differently and much more aggressively. 

 

God have mercy on us.

_________________________________________

 

This just in from The Dallas Morning News on my doorstep:  Authorities found the body of another Dallas neighbor, a woman who has been identfied, near the Dallas Convention Center.  It appears that this person also froze to death a short distance from the luxurious Omni Hotel.

The street crushes people.

The streets elevate sadness to amazing levels.

The streets of a city offer up a taste of hell.

Today, I sat on the corner in the howling wind.  The wind chill had to be in the 30s.

We drank coffee, ate cookies and talked about life.

I heard some unforgettable things.

"Man, I've picked up 'bout 4 pounds of cans in less than an hour.  I've got to get back to mama. Can I take her some of this coffee and some cookies?  She is crippled and has a hard time gettin' 'round."

"The wind's blowin' and it's so cold." 

"Pray for my brother, George.  He has two more years to do in the TDC" (Texas Department of Corrections).  "Pray for him that he'll be able to handle his trials and temptations and come out okay." 

"Where's the trash?" more than one homeless person asked as they tried to find a place to dispose of cups, cream containers, etc.

"People in those big buildings are under the pressure of billions of dollars.  We're under the pressure, no less difficult, of zero billions!" a wise man said with a laugh.

"How cold is it gonna get tonight?

Several times as folks walked away with hot coffee in hand, "Have a Merry Christmas!"

An old woman with a European accent, "May I have that box?  Do you have coffee for me?"

"I can make it fine so long as its only in the 30s or 40s, after that I have to go to a shelter."

"Things happened that put people out here; we weren't born out here. But once you're out here for a while, things change inside you and things change back there and it's hard to get back; and if you get back, so much has changed that you feel lost and you can't make it." 

A very young man carrying a large, black trash bag asked me, "Do you know where a person could buy a tent?"  

I'm not sure why, but I left the corner filled with sadness today.  Such good people, enjoyable souls, people I love to "hang with," out in the cold trying, as one man said, "to just make it from day to day."

As I left, I waved back to my friend, "Blue."  He returned my wave.  I hope to see him next week.

Last week, I received notice that a comment had been left on my YouTube site that responded to a video clip of the CitySquare Food Pantry that I posted over two years ago.

Here's what the comment said:

1960frederick 2 days ago

I was homeless in dallas for 20yrs an thanks too city square, they
helped me with a furnished apartment rent free. I was addicted
to drugs an alcohol and with the help of case workers an appa
 Im drug an alcohol free...............

·

 Feedback like this keeps us working hard!

Christmas, again

Thursday, I sat down on

The Porch

Where I meet up with real guys,

Men who've lost all of 

What they once had;  for a

Few that meant a lot, for 

Most there never was much to lose.

I'm learning the

Street

Is all about loss--

Lost families,

Lost children,

Lost health,

Lost hope,

Dreams shot to hell and back over

Stupid stuff and some tragedies.

Thursday, I sat down on 

The Porch,

Billy's porch,

Where I met up with real guys, we drank

Coffee together; and

I expect we lied about our lives;

Not a few made 

Fun of money and efforts to help. 

Some, 

Covered in pre-Christmas 

Depression could 

Hardly talk without a 

Tear trickling down, deep down in the

Voice.

Merry 

Christmas, again,

Out here. 

Thinking of friends

Today I'm thinking of my friends, people like Art, Wendy, Joe, Blue and many more. 

They call the streets of Dallas "home."

They possess almost nothing.

What they have, they share freely with their friends and neighbors.

If they eat today, they will eat a charity meal. 

Some will bed down in a shelter.  Some will find a resting place under a bridge or in an alley.

Every time I'm with them I hear expressions of thanksgiving. 

They are my best teachers when it comes to gratitude.

For them I am very, very thankful.

I hope that soon, very soon we'll have more houses to offer them. 

You know, real homes.

Terry

I wish I had asked for a photograph. 

His beard was magnificent! 

The slightly built, Caucasian man rode up on a nice looking bicycle just as I was unloading more water from my truck for distribution on "the Corner."

"Have anything to eat?" he asked hopefully.

"No, sorry," I replied, "just water today."

"That's okay," he said.

His name is Terry. 

"Nice bike," I observed.  "It looks new."

"No, not new, but in pretty good shape," he commented.  "A guy gave me this bike."

"Really?" I responded.

"Yes, he ran over my old one, so he gave me this one as a replacement," he explained as I admired his ride.

We talked for a long time.  He explained that he was a street entertainer.

"I do card tricks and tell jokes for tips," he informed me. 

"Where?" I asked.

"Deep Ellum," he replied. 

"So, you work the clubs on the sidewalks?" I asked.

"Yes, but I know which ones to pick," he beamed. 

He told me that he had staked out a private, secret place where he stowed his belongings and where he bedded down.  He didn't like the shelters because once in, you can't get out until early morning. 

"I don't have much stuff," he noted as we talked about securing belongings.

"Really, if you're happy on the inside and a pleasant person on the outside, that's all that matters," he declared. 

"Happy on the inside" and "a pleasant person on the outside"--hmmm. 

Sounds like a Rx for contentment. 

"I used to be materialistic, but I've gone beyond that," he told me. 

Wisdom from a new friend.  I'd never seen Terry before yesterday. 

I certainly hope to see him again. 

When "justification" hurts others

Earlier this week I enjoyed a conversation with one of Dallas' Exchange Clubs.  The meeting was really delightful.

There were about a dozen of us.

All of us were post-60 years old, felt like a fraternity of sorts!

My job:  to talk about the high cost of keeping people homeless and on the streets.

The "return on investment" of permanent housing in real savings to a community makes it a no-brainer of a choice when it comes to public policy, but we continue to settle for the status quo that does little good for anyone.

So, we kick the can down the road while our extremely poor neighbors live in shelters intended to be emergency solutions for the short term, but end up becoming community institutions with long-term residents in a string of nights that too often runs on for years.

Anyway, as we spoke about the mythical stereotypes associated with the homeless, I had one of those moments of insight, at least for me it was.

"If you don't want to help the homeless, then don't," I counseled my new friends.  "But at least don't concoct some lie about the helpless, homeless guy or gal that further embeds and strengthens the inaccurate stereotypes in an effort to justify  your decision not to help."

I believe that is what happens an awful lot when it comes to the very poor among us and our decisions to "walk by on the other side of road." .

What do you think?
_______________________________

BTW--I've had amazing meetings this week with church leaders about building cottages in our PUSH 50 project at Malcolm X Boulevard and I-30!  

So encouraging! 

More later. 

At our doorsteps

The very poor among us are hated. 

Tell me that I'm too harsh in my evaluation if you want, but it is true.

Try to build a high-quality, residential building for the poor and the homeless in any Dallas neighborhood, then get back to me. 

No one wants be be near the very poor.  That's just a sad fact of life in our city, even among the so called "urban pioneers" and progressives.  Spare me your explanations, please. 

So, here's the Sunday reading.  I dedicate it to all the NIMBYs (Not In My Back Yard) I've met over the last 18 years. 

The Rich Man and Lazarus  Luke 16:19-31

“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day.  At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores  and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.

 “The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side.  So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’

 “But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony.  And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’

“He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’

“Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’

 “‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’

“He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”