The man smells of stale wine and urine. His clothes so filthy it is obvious they''ve not been changed in weeks. His face layered in dirt reveals lines of age. Based on the weight his eating habits rank below sub par. No one really knows his name. His home was the alley behind a market off Broadway. The alcove near a dumpster provided ample protection against the weather. it too offered close proximity to a liquor store. All was well Mr. John Doe.
Then one night his body could take no more. Cheap wine and bad cuisine from that large green container did him in. His body lay there for a day or two before someone found him.
His remains were take to the morgue. The good samaritan coming across his already stiff being felt no sadness. It was just another
drunk who went to his maker. Why bother caring.?
At the medical examiner''s lab the truth is already figured. He died of natural causes brought on by exposure to the elements and poor living habits. Identifying him may prove hard. With a set of prints sent out, maybe some
family will have closure.
In the meantime another drunk will take his spot in the alcove in the alley. The two may have met before. Perhaps they
didn''t. Passerbys snubbed their noses and looked down on the lower members of their
society. What was to become of John Doe though?
In this case, he''d be identified as a man from another city or state. A falling out with his family led him to a life of wine and panhandling and eventually
death. He may have been a grandfather, husband, or brother. Up to today, he was Mr. John Doe.
Just how many Mary Does or John Does must die before we care. How many
people across the world in countries rich with prosperity must suffer this fate. Some
nations make billions in oil, but ignore the John Does of their country. Other nations are so embroiled in political or racial strife, they have no time to consider them. Here in the states, men and women sleep on park benches. Bodies are discovered of people who used to bleed and breathe. But because they didn''t keep up with the rest of society, they must be noted in morgues as John or Mary Doe.
How many is too many? How about one?
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