Homeless in Vancouver: The sun didn’t come out on Friday but Daryl did

You’ll see a lot of people going through the Dumpsters in the back alleys of Vancouver but you won’t see a lot see them doing it wearing a long black overcoat topped with a black fedora.

I only ever knew one Dumpster diver who made a habit of dressing like this and I haven’t seen him for at least four years.

His name was Daryl—a very nice, soft-spoken fellow. Eccentric and artistic. He made interesting things with many of the interesting things he scavenged.

But lo and behold the man in black I saw on Friday was Daryl. He was back! As laconic as ever and still dressing like an extra from the old television show Dragnet.

Sunday in the yard with Daryl

When I first met him in 2004, Daryl lived in a big old run-down house on 8th Avenue—one of the few that escaped being replaced by a condominium in the 1980s.

Daryl hasn’t lived there for years, but the house remains—something with character (and a veranda) for the eye to catch on as it slips over the bland sameness of the crumbling 30-year-old low-rise condos built side-by-each.

While he lived in that house, Daryl used to stage a yard sale every Sunday that it didn’t rain.

He laid out to best advantage a selection of what he judged his most salable scavenged wares and spent his Sunday afternoons leisurely chatting with whichever of his neighbours came by to check out the selection.

It’s to be assumed that many little nicknacks that Daryl fished out of Dumpsters and cleaned up thus found their way into the neighbouring condos.

These days Daryl lives on the other side—the north side—of False Creek, in downtown Vancouver, specifically in social housing for veterans.

He said the building he lived in was quiet and dull. His neighbours were all old men who were inclined to tell the same stories over and over.

When I asked him about his health specifically and his life in general, Daryl made light and said everything was good. But he would say that. He can be so reserved behind that weary smile of his.

It was several years before he let me understand that he suffered with serious health problems as well as depression.

I was very happy to see him on Friday and I could only hope that he was half as happy to be seen. I certainly don’t want to wait another four years before I see him again.