Going north, I found a sign outside the Roman Catholic cathedral that has been de-sanctified and turned into apartments.
I'd love to see those apartments.
I didn't get very far in my ten minutes, because I was stopped by an older woman who asked for fifty cents. She was a nice, grandmotherly-looking sort of woman, and I gave her a dollar. I usually don't contribute to panhandlers, mainly because there are so many. How do you choose which one to help? But I admit I'm more open to the older women.
As I was opening my wallet, she continued to talk. She was on her way to the doctor's and she was thirsty, and needed to buy a soda. Her story reminded me of something I have noticed about panhandlers - they all have a story, and they often tell it whether it appears that you are going to contribute or not. Sometimes the story is about losing a job, or having a car break down, or not eating in three days. These stories may or may not be true, but I suppose they at least began with the truth. And yet the panhandlers seem to cling to their stories long past the expiration date, and seem compelled to repeat them whether useful or not.
For example, there is the 51-year-old Veteran of Market Street. He has stopped me at least four times over the past eight years, and I've seen him talking to other people, too. Each time he begins with the same story: "Excuse me, I'm a 51-year-old Veteran and I'm trying to get to the VA Hospital."
The thing is, he's been 51 for at least eight years now. The years go by, but the story never changes. I think he may have had some luck with it once, and now sees no reason to update it. Also, he seems completely unaware that he is telling the story to the same people day after day.
Well, you don't get to be in that situation unless you have some pretty serious problems. He probably is a veteran, and he was 51 at some point, and I think that he really does need to be in a hospital - so it's not such a bad story, after all.
My next trip is south, and what do I find after walking for ten minutes?
It's the VA Hospital! I didn't even realize it was so close. Suddenly the 51-year-old Veteran of Market Street seems even sadder.
Right across the street from the VA Hospital is the Penn School of Veterinary Medicine.
The vets are directly across the street from the vets - ha ha.
My next trip is east, and I pretty much know where I'll be after ten minutes, since this is the route I walk most days to get to the train station.
I'm at the Paul Peck Center. It's a Victorian building designed by Frank Furness, and on the National Register of historic buildings.
A very, very different kind of modern space has been added to the Center.
And the spring flowers are in bloom.
So I say good-bye, see you later this afternoon, and head off to finish the fourth leg of this project, ten minutes' walk west of 38th and Market.
About six minutes into the walk I remember that when I first began working at this location, I was advised never to walk west of 40th Street after 5:00. Well, this is the middle of the day, but even so I begin to wonder if this is very wise.
The area isn't so terrible, although at the ten-minute mark I do see one of those abandoned row houses that plague this city.
At least, I think it's abandoned.
It crosses my mind that folks might not want a crazy old white lady walking around taking pictures in their 'hood. No matter how upbeat they are feeling at the moment.
So I head back. I do notice one scary face.
Yikes!
Oh - it's just one of the Pep Boys.
And so ends the set of 10-minute excursions.
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