I phoned several charitable organizations but no one would take any responsibility for him. I told public health that he was no longer capable of looking after himself. Nobody would help him.
Jake had a rather unusual surname. I remembered that on one occasion he had told me that he had two sons and that one was a doctor in a neighboring city. I hadn’t known if I should believe this story either but I was getting desperate. I consulted a telephone directory from that city. There was a doctor with the same last name. I phoned.
When I was connected with the doctor I asked if he knew anybody by the name of Jake. There was a very long silence. I would have thought that the doctor had hung up except that I hadn’t heard a click. Finally he answered. Yes! Jake was his father but he hadn’t seen him in forty years and wasn’t interested in renewing the relationship.
Another dead end!
Finally I phoned the police department and asked if they had any suggestions. I didn’t want to just throw Jake out on to the street but I couldn’t keep him there forever. They told me what to do. They said – go to court and get a ruling from a judge citing Jake’s inability to care for himself on mental health grounds. Then the police could pick him up and he could be taken into protective custody, driven to the hospital, checked over and assessed and someone or the hospital would be appointed caregiver.
That is what I did. I felt guilty having the police pick up Jake but I didn’t know what else to do. Jake’s mental condition was so poor by this time that he was not upset by the police coming. He was happy to accompany them. He now had a new audience to tell his tales to. At the hospital he was assessed and admitted.
Now I was left with the problem of disposing of Jake’s few possessions. He had little but you can’t just throw a man’s life away. The small items like a few papers, a bible and some mementos I put into a couple of boxes and took them to the hospital. They didn’t want to be bothered with them but I insisted and left them. I hope Jake got them.
When I started cleaning, Jake’s unit other tenants wandered by. I usually give abandoned items to whoever might want them in the complex so the renters kept an eye on my activities. One of the other renters commented that he knew one of the ladies that had visited a few months earlier and they even knew where that person lived. (I could have used that information sooner.) Luckily for me, the visitor lived in small town Saskatchewan. Everybody knows everybody else in small prairie towns so I was able to track the lady down.
It turned out that the lady was a sister-in-law. That was a close enough relationship for me. I explained about Jake. I told them what had happened over the last few months and where Jake was now. We made arrangements for them to come and get Jake’s things. They came and got the stuff. I hope they also visited Jake. I never heard what happened to him after – private information. I was not a relative. I hope someone got a violin for him to play.
