The ThunderBlogs

Just past West Pender Street after the Cambie Street intersection, residents in worn clothing stood on sidewalks approaching pedestrians for spare change. Misty rain hovered in the air, adding a dark opacity to the area. There was a mild chill to the early September afternoon, and a slight breeze to match.

A frail, toothless elderly woman in a wheelchair waited just outside MacLeod’s Books and followed passersby with coin cup in hand. She rolled over to a young couple perusing a group of flyers in the bookstore window informing visitors of upcoming events. Asking for enough change to buy some coffee, she extended her cup to the couple.  The pair only responded by averting their eyes, ignoring her request completely and continuing down West Pender toward Homer Street and on to their final destination.

Further down the same street is Central City Lodge, a long-term care facility also offering addiction programs, silhouetted in the West Pender skyline. The seven-storey red-brick building placidly sat as a haven for local residents in need of complex care.

Six wheelchair-bound lodge residents were parked near the many windowed entrance of City Central, all of whom sho

wed heavy exposure to time and the elements with wrinkled faces, tattered clothes and wearied expressions. Protected by the awning, the residents stared through the wall of misty raindrops.

Suddenly, a seventh resident was wheeled out of the sliding doors and was deposited adjacent to the other six.  Once the orderly had rounded out the group to seven, he scurried back through the automatic doors.  The seventh member was somberly greeted by the eerie silence that enveloped the rest of the group.

With vacant expressions, they stared with glazed eyes straight ahead, oblivious to all passersby and each other.