I guess you can't go home again.

Friday morning Ahmie, Liam and I helped transferred our title over to our friend Libby. We gave her our old ailing Saturn SL2; it still runs, but, just not like a dream. We recently bought a 96 Dodge Grand Caravan (yes a mini van. tho there is nothing mini about that car). Since we had to go to the title bureau which was located in downtown Cleveland and Ahmie also had to drive Libby to her doctor's appointment at the Free Clinic. Since we were half way to the Free Clinic already I wanted to see the Clinic since I had volunteered there during college.

I can remember the moment that I saw the poster advertising the Free Clinic's need for volunteers. It was the start of my sophomore fall semester, and Ahmie, Bryce and I were walking up the stairs of Sherman House, the dorm in which Bryce and I lived in. The poster was posted to the left of the door to our floor (2nd). I read the poster and picked up a card which was tucked into a pocket on the poster.

It was at that moment which leads to me achieving one of my life goals. I had since my turbulent teen years, always wanted to work on a crisis hotline. I guess I had always wanted to help other people. Hey you can't become an Eagle Scout if you don't want to help other people. I guess I always wanted to help in a meaningful way but stay anonymous.

During college (sophomore to senior years), I had volunteered at the Cleveland Free Clinic's Together Hotline. For 2 1/2 years I volunteered 4 hours of my Thursday night from 6 to 10 pm every week. The Together Hotline was a crisis counseling hotline we helped people from simple sex, drug questions to situations where callers were on the brink of suicide. From my fuzzy memories, I remember some chilling calls that I had helped callers through some rough moments of their lives.

The hotline room where the volunteers worked was a dim, narrow brick room in the basement of the free clinic. Tho' it may seem grim, the room was like a womb, the light was soft, and my heart was in the room when ever I was there. The yellowed white walls were covered with graffiti and sayings left behind by volunteers. There was a feeling of permanence, because during my time working there, the together hotline had been in existence for over 20 years. Part of my heart and soul was left behind when I moved to Virginia after I graduated from CWRU, I left with fuzzy memories of chilling calls where I tried to help others in need in very desperate situations, and times of change.

I was forewarned of the drastic changes that the free clinic had gone through in the past 5 years. In fact the old clinic is no longer there, it was torn down after a new clinic building was built adjacent to it. When I drove up Euclid Ave and under the RTA tracks. I saw the new building, and where the old building was, it is now a parking lot. It is a very nice looking building, Brick and concrete blocks and with large glass windows in the modern style. When I walked into the foyer/ admit area. The building was very clean and looks very much like a hospital admit area.

In the back of my mind I was comparing the old building with the new building. I remember that the old clinic was an old dingy brick building, with a very unassuming sign proclaiming that it is the free clinic, now there is a very artistic sign in front of the building stating that this is the Free Clinic. The inside of the Clinic in my mind was aging, dim and was well worn with plants everywhere. The floor was covered in old tile flooring that had a pattern of streaks of green with some other white streaks. The new admit area looks like any hospital admit area, bright, light colored walls, with light colored wood railings. I did not look at the floors.

I walked up the admin secretaries, and asked for the two people who I knew were the people in charge of the Together Hotline, Jane Loisdaughter and Deby Auberbach-Brown. The admin secretary calmly told me that they no longer worked there. In the back of my mind I knew that was possible. Then I asked the heart breaking question "Is the Together Hotline here anymore?" She answered no, again calmly. I thanked the secretaries for their time and I told my wife that I will go to work.

I don't know who the philosopher who said this. You can never cross the same river twice. That is true, the shape of the river changes, the speed of the flow changes, the water it self changes all the time and flows away. Perhaps it is silly of me to think I come back to the Free Clinic and think nothing has changed in the past 5 years, and that I would come back and walk in and see that nothing has changed. But, I was sad to find that the Together Hotline no longer exists. My heart ached, it felt like a long needle had been poked into my heart piercing my soul. I had hoped to come back and return to help other people anonymously when they need it most.

I now feel some need for some consoling but there is no one to call.