Smiling, he jumped up to shake hands after the Deacon introduced himself, and then me. The Deacon asked how he was doing.‘I’m fine,’ he said, ‘just waiting for housing.’Vince was the first person we encountered that night on the street. Here was a stark contrast of quiet, unlit streets and neglected roads, and sidewalks with overgrown bushes. They sat slumped on its ledges, lost in the space of their “fix.” A young woman held a needle poised for entry into her left arm. Quiet!’ In respectful silence, his friends watched as he prayed over us, his eyes closed and his voice booming with intensity.