His Name is Dan

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    His name is Dan

    His Name is Dan


    Somewhere around 8:45 pm this evening I heard this sound at the front door. Next thing I know, the front door handle is wiggling, and someone is attempting to push at the door to get in. The door was locked thank God, but it was already dark outside. Luckily the porch light was on. I’ll never turn it off again.

    I’ll never turn it off again

    I hadn’t heard any cars pull up in front of the house. I was very alarmed. I got up from the couch a little shaken that someone had just tried to enter my home. Thoughts go through your mind.

    1. Do you have your phone?
    2. What is your escape path?
    3. If you own a gun, do you get it?
    4. Is looking out the window to see who it is – enough to give you heart palpitations?
    5. Do you have kids?
    6. Do you open the door?

    A view from the front window

    There at my front door was a little old man, about 5’3 or so. He was hunched over and leaning on a cane. An old backpack was slowly sliding down his shoulder. It looked like a child’s backpack. His long beard was unkempt, and an old cap with the word Navy on it adorned his head. The old green army jacket he wore clashed with his Navy ball cap. He was wearing the typical layers of clothing that you see on many homeless people. I noticed that his mustache was starting to fill with thick dark blood pooling from his nose. A scrap on the bridge of his nose showed that he had either taken a tumble somewhere, …or someone had hit him hard.

    …or someone had hit him hard

    I opened the door

    My children still haven’t gotten over the fact that I opened the door. I’ve been royally scolded. Rightfully so.

    I approached this person standing on my porch and asked if he was okay. Fearfully I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, and my fear quickly went away. He looked up at me with his little beady eyes and a half smile on his face. He apologized for his condition (drunk). He smelled like a nasty bottle of crap.

    0-2 His Name is DanHe apparently had mistaken my house for someone else’s. He said he was looking for Greg or Craig and some woman he knew. He thought they lived here, and they would put him up for the night. I assured him that they did not live here.

    I asked him if he needed help. That is when he told me that his roommate who lives across town had kicked him out of the house, and he was afraid of him. He was very lost and confused, and I didn’t believe much of what he said. But he was hurt.

    But he was hurt

    I asked that he stand where he was on the porch. He relaxed for a second and then leaned heavily on the porch railing, trying to steady himself.  I turned and went back inside my home, and grab some tissue off the coffee table for him to wipe his face with. When I returned, he took the tissue I offered, and he slowly started dabbing at the blood – smearing it down his face into his beard. He then pointed to the road, and said, “…out there, I fell”.

    “…out there, I fell”

    I asked if he wanted me to call the police and have them take him to the local Hostel here in town. I offered to pay for it. He told me “I don’t want anything to do with the cops!”  I suspected he had a number of mental health issues along with a serious alcohol problem; and, probably recent run-ins with the law.

    After he attempted to clean his face, he stated that there was a woman across town that might put him up. Assuming he would make his way back to wherever he had come from, I wished him well, and God Bless.

    As silent as he had appeared on my porch, he slowly withdrew back down the steps – and I swear he just disappeared. I secured the porch gate, and all my door locks once again for the evening. I then called the police. Hopefully, they found him. I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping much that evening.

    I wouldn’t be sleeping much that evening

    What started out like a horror movie, turned into a sad motion picture about someone’s life destroyed by alcohol and mental illness.

    The rumblings

    There was rumbling around the outside of the house later that same night. The cat and dog were picking up their ears…listening, as was I. I wasn’t going back outside! Then I thought… “Why didn’t my dog barkShe is like a second doorbell.

    The next morning I noticed that the front porch latch was undone again, and the lawn furniture had been moved. I called the police again.

    Later the next day, I was mowing the lawn and discovered dog treats in my yard. I never feed my dog those treats. Someone has been making friends with my pets.

    Moral of the story

    Always lock your house. Get security lights and camera’s if you need too. Call the police and have them remove whoever is on your porch. Well…. and don’t open the stupid door.

    I do thank the police for looking for him and stepping up patrols in the area.