A man named Barry and I introduced ourselves. We chatted. Barry, who is 50, was just there helping out, doing some of the texturing before they paint the walls and ceilings. A lifelong resident of New Orleans, Barry has family and friends (including his mother and brother) in St. Bernard Parish, and was just there helping out. He says that he tries to help out as many people in the neighborhoods as possible. He does some contracting work, enough to keep afloat. But for the most part, he just spares his time to help out at different homes, he says, particularly for elderly.
As Barry puts it, he’s blessed. The thing was, Barry didn’t know me from a hole in the wall. I walked in there, introduced myself, and he probably gathered that I was a volunteer, but I don’t think I even told him that much, saying that I was just looking for Noriko. After asking him what he was doing there, his connection, if he’s got family in the Parish, etc., he proceeded to tell me how he just likes to help. He makes enough money to get by, to feed himself, and help out with his mom. And that’s all he needs. There wasn’t a word that came out of his mouth that I didn’t find to be sincere and genuine.
While taping windows before spraying more texture, Barry kept chatting away, explaining how he gets so much fulfillment out of helping people. I can relate. No amount of money or salary can top it. I took Barry’s number, and told him I’d give him a call within the next week. I want to see his mom’s house, see some of the other families he knows in the area, and what their story is. Maybe there’s something that my upcoming project can help some of them with. I’m pretty sure that if Barry has a connection with someone, they’ll be legit.
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