Sheri Holman: Rescue Mission - The Moth

Summary

Episode Summary: Sheri Holman: Rescue Mission

Podcast Title: The Moth
Host/Author: The Moth
Episode: Sheri Holman: Rescue Mission
Release Date: April 18, 2011

Introduction

In this poignant episode of The Moth, Sheri Holman recounts her transformative experience living in New York City in the late 1980s. Recorded live in 2008 during a storytelling night themed around "stories about men," Sheri's narrative delves deep into themes of love, addiction, and redemption, offering listeners an intimate look into her journey of self-discovery and the complexities of human relationships.

Moving to New York and Early Struggles

Sheri begins her story in 1988, a year marked by her move to New York City with limited resources—"$800 in my pocket and a box of books." Fueled by the ambition to become a Shakespearean actress, she shares the hardships of her early days:

“I moved to New York to suffer. And I moved here with this great ambition to be a Shakespearean actress.”
[02:30]

Living with two other women, Sheri highlights the fleeting nature of their relationships. While one roommate quickly left to reunite with a wealthy boyfriend, the other, an exotic Russian woman, found herself entangled with Alec Baldwin within just three weeks. In contrast, Sheri identifies herself as the "true artist" of the group, evident by the way she endures her struggles.

Her living conditions were stark:

“If you opened up my refrigerator, you would see that I had a bottle of champagne and a little tin of contraband caviar and a box of Pop Tarts, nothing else.”
[02:55]

Sheri's days were a cycle of auditions and rejections, juxtaposed with a disheartening job:

“I worked my job, which I'd somehow found for myself, which was with this really disreputable literary agent who paid me $5 to read these phone book sized manuscripts that I was directed to reject.”
[03:20]

Her only solace was immersed in literature, particularly Dostoevsky, whose works became her companion during lonely nights:

“I was reading Dostoevsky because, you know, he is the patron saint of all who suffer, and especially when you're 21, you really love it.”
[04:00]

Observing Patrick and the Rescue Mission

Sheri's routine included watching the men congregating at the nearby rescue mission, a structure emblazoned with messages:

“One side it said, get right with God, and on the other side it said, sin will find you out. And I loved it.”
[04:45]

Amidst the burgeoning HIV/AIDS crisis and the rise of crack cocaine, Sheri began documenting the lives of the men she observed daily. Her journal became a testament to their struggles, primarily featuring black and brown bodies facing societal neglect. However, one individual stood out—a young white man who seemed out of place among his peers:

“He was clean, and he had curly blond hair and big blue eyes. And he sort of seemed to be almost in charge.”
[06:00]

This man, later identified as Patrick, led groups to breakfast and religious services, piquing Sheri's curiosity. Despite her fascination, she refrained from introducing herself, choosing instead to idealize him from a distance.

Developing a Relationship

An evening of impulsivity led Sheri to attempt to connect with Patrick by throwing flowers from her fire escape:

“I pelted this man with flowers until finally he looked up. He's like, what the fuck is going on?”
[09:10]

Instead of the intended Patrick, she encountered another man who claimed the flowers, leaving her disappointed. However, fate intervened when Sheri locked herself out of her apartment, and Patrick approached to assist her:

“He introduced himself and he said his name was Patrick. And he described himself as a skeptical optimist.”
[13:00]

Inviting her to St. Vincent's House, a local rescue mission, Sheri stepped into a community she had long observed but never engaged with directly. This marked the beginning of her deepening involvement:

“There was this amazing service. ... I realized that I'd been going out to these auditions and getting rejected and coming home and rejecting would be novelist. And here I was sitting in this room full of sort of society's most rejected men. And for the first time, I felt really accepted.”
[15:30]

Challenges in the Relationship

As Sheri and Patrick's relationship blossomed, so did the complexities of their lives intertwined with addiction. Patrick's past was marred by substance abuse:

“He had come down from Canada with $8,000 of his business partner's money to be a record producer. And in one weekend he'd locked in a hotel room and he had smoked it all in crack.”
[17:00]

Despite their love, financial struggles and recurring drug use strained their relationship. Sheri's determination to "save" Patrick led to moments of tenderness and frustration alike. A significant turning point occurred when Patrick requested privacy to take showers, revealing deeper fissures in their trust:

“I looked at him, this man that I said I loved, with this complete, full self and this absolute trust. And I remembered that $8,000 worth of crack and where I had found him. And I said, I'm sorry, I can't.”
[19:10]

Patrick's harsh reaction underscored the precariousness of their bond, culminating in Sheri's desperate realization of the impact her love could have:

“I realized that my love was the only thing that stood between him and complete oblivion. And that if I just loved him a little bit harder and a little less selfishly, that I could save him.”
[25:40]

The Turning Point

In a moment of profound vulnerability, Sheri reached out to Patrick on the streets of Hell's Kitchen, offering him a chance to rebuild their lives together:

“I dropped to my knees in the middle of this Hell's Kitchen street and I said, I love you. I don't want you to die. Will you move in with me? And he did.”
[29:00]

Their attempt to live as a "normal couple" was fraught with challenges. Patrick's cycle of sobriety and relapse persisted, and their financial instability deepened. The arrival of their pregnancy added another layer of stress, pushing Sheri to confront the limits of her capacity to support Patrick:

“And so we went to the doctor. And the night after the operation, he went to bed.”
[35:20]

Feeling trapped and overwhelmed, Sheri faced a moment of crisis, contemplating her existence amidst the vastness of New York City:

“I sat down with my legs dangling over the edge of this five story building. And I thought about that woman with her Macy's price tags. And I thought, I'm not here to do that, but if I fall, would I stop myself?”
[39:45]

Rescue and Conclusion

As Sheri stood on the precipice of despair, the intervention of two police officers provided a lifeline:

“This voice repeated, it said, step away from the edge. And I turned and there were these two police officers standing in the doorway of this tenement.”
[42:30]

Their presence was a stark reminder of the fragile balance between rescue and loss. Reflecting on her earlier observations of Patrick and the men at St. Vincent's House, Sheri realized the universal need for human connection and support:

“In this city that lets you fall, people also stretch out a hand to help you back up. And that night I took it and I followed those police officers back inside.”
[46:00]

Sheri's story culminates in a profound understanding of her own limitations and the intricate web of relationships that define our lives. Her journey underscores the importance of empathy, the power of love, and the significance of being present for others in their darkest moments.

Notable Quotes with Timestamps

Sheri Holman at [02:30]:
“I moved to New York to suffer. And I moved here with this great ambition to be a Shakespearean actress.”
Sheri Holman at [04:45]:
“One side it said, get right with God, and on the other side it said, sin will find you out. And I loved it.”
Sheri Holman at [09:10]:
“I pelted this man with flowers until finally he looked up. He's like, what the fuck is going on?”
Sheri Holman at [13:00]:
“He introduced himself and he said his name was Patrick. And he described himself as a skeptical optimist.”
Sheri Holman at [19:10]:
“I looked at him, this man that I said I loved, with this complete, full self and this absolute trust. And I remembered that $8,000 worth of crack and where I had found him. And I said, I'm sorry, I can't.”
Sheri Holman at [25:40]:
“I realized that my love was the only thing that stood between him and complete oblivion. And that if I just loved him a little bit harder and a little less selfishly, that I could save him.”
Sheri Holman at [29:00]:
“I dropped to my knees in the middle of this Hell's Kitchen street and I said, I love you. I don't want you to die. Will you move in with me? And he did.”
Sheri Holman at [39:45]:
“I sat down with my legs dangling over the edge of this five story building. And I thought about that woman with her Macy's price tags. And I thought, I'm not here to do that, but if I fall, would I stop myself?”
Sheri Holman at [46:00]:
“In this city that lets you fall, people also stretch out a hand to help you back up. And that night I took it and I followed those police officers back inside.”

Conclusion

Sheri Holman's Rescue Mission is a heartfelt exploration of love's capacity to heal and the often-painful journey toward self-awareness. Through her vivid storytelling, she invites listeners to reflect on the intersections of personal ambition, human connection, and the often-unseen battles that shape our lives.

Additional Information:

Author Background: Sheri Holman is the author of four novels, including The Dress Lodger, The Mammoth Cheese, and Witches on the Road Tonight, praised by the New York Review of Books as "marvelously creepy, touching and tender." She is also a founding member of The Moth.
Podcast Production: Produced by Paul Ruest at Argo Studios in New York and hosted by Dan Kennedy. The episode was recorded live at The Moth in 2008.

For more stories and live events by The Moth, visit themoth.org.

Transcript

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Dan Kennedy (2:12)

Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Dan Kennedy. So the story you're about to hear by Sherry Holman was recorded live at the moth in 2008. And the theme of the night was stories about men.

Sherry Holman (2:30)

In 1988, I moved to New York to suffer. And I moved here with $800 in my pocket and a box of books. And I moved here with this great ambition to be a Shakespearean actress. And I moved here with two other women and and one had a very Rich boyfriend, and she lasted about a month. And the other was a beautiful, exotic Russian woman. And somehow, within being in New York for only three weeks, she'd hooked up with Alec Baldwin. But I was the true artist of the bunch. And you could tell I was an artist by the way I suffered. And if you opened up my refrigerator, you would see that I had a bottle of champagne and a little tin of contraband caviar and a box of Pop Tarts, nothing else. And if you followed me through the streets, you would see that I went out to my auditions where I was rejected. And then I came home and I worked my job, which I'd somehow found for myself, which was with this really disreputable literary agent who paid me $5 to read these phone book sized manuscripts that I was directed to reject. And so I would stack these manuscripts up in my living room and I would put like a sheet over them, and that was my furniture, and I was there to suffer. And while my friends went out on these fabulous dates, I laid in my little room in this crappy little Hell's Kitchen apartment on my futon on the floor, and I was reading Dostoevsky because, you know, he is the patron saint of all who suffer, and especially when you're 21, you really love it. And so I would lie there sort of naked with my Dostoevsky all around me, and I would think about how I wanted to love. And the way you love in Dostoevsky is to give everything. You hold nothing back. And the highest compliment you can pay your beloved is to follow him to the Gulag. And that's how I wanted to love. That's how I moved to New York. And so I would lie there naked with my Dostoevsky all around me. And the cross from the rescue mission next door would flash into my window. And on one side it said, get right with God, and on the other side it said, sin will find you out. And I loved it. So I'd kind of chosen this particular apartment in Hell's Kitchen because of the rescue mission. Some people wouldn't want to live next to a rescue mission, but of course I did. And I would sit every morning on my fire escape and I would watch the men kind of come from all over the city. And I was new to New York in 1988. And there were other things that were new also. HIV, AIDS was new, and crack cocaine was new. And even this term, homeless was new. You know, up until then, you know, men had been bums. And it was sort of a personal Failing. But now it was a little bit ennobled, and they were more of a victim, and they were just lacking home. And so I would sit on my fire escape with my battered yellow journal, and I would write about these men that I saw. And. And they would come from all over the city, and they were mostly black and brown bodies. And in the middle of this human suffering, there was this one white boy. And I was 21 years old and from Virginia. And I was like, oh, what's he doing here? You know? And he seemed very incongruous to me. And he was clean, and he had curly blond hair and big blue eyes. And he sort of seemed to be almost in charge. He would get all of this enormous group of men in for breakfast every morning. And then a few hours later, I would see him lead an elderly, blind priest and a seeing eye dog down the street. And then a few hours after that, I'd see him sitting on the steps of this brownstone reading theology and smoking a cigarette. And I became fascinated by this man. And I would sit on my fire escape, and I would watch him for hours and speculate upon him. But I obviously preferred the fantasy to the reality because I never introduced myself. And then one night when my roommate was out with Alec Baldwin somewhere, I went to the refrigerator and I got that bottle of champagne and I drank it. And, you know, I went out of my fire escape, and there was this man talking to another man in this pool of lamplight. And I thought. And I was a little drunk, and I wanted to meet him so badly, but I couldn't just say it. So I went back into the kitchen and I got this big bouquet of flowers, and I went out on the fire escape, and I took one of the flowers and I went and I threw it down over the fire escape. But of course, it landed in the dark, and he didn't even notice it. So I was like, shit. And so I took another flower and I threw it. And another flower, and I threw it and another. And I pelted this man with flowers until finally he looked up. He's like, what the fuck is going on? And then I realized, what have I done? And I ducked back into my apartment, and about two seconds later, the doorbell rang. And I thought, well, this is what you wanted. So I buzzed him in, and it was the other one. And he's like, oh, beautiful lady, I think you dropped these flowers. And I was like, no, no, they were for you and for your friend. And I said, where's your friend? And he said, oh, well, he had to go in for the 10 o'clock curfew. And I said, curfew for someone who works there? You know, I thought, does he work there? Is he an actor? I didn't know where he fit in. And he's like, pretty lady, he doesn't work there, he lives there. And so then I realized this man that I had spent all these weeks speculating about was not just. Not classically successful and not just Alec Baldwin, but he was in fact, homeless. And then I remembered I'd been reading all this Dostoevsky. And the thing about Dostoevsky is that you don't care what somebody does. It is all about the person. And you give everything to somebody's humanity. So I continued to watch him for several more weeks. And then one day I locked myself out of my apartment. And I realized that he had been watching me too. Because he came around to the brownstone steps where I was sitting. And he introduced himself and he said his name was Patrick. And he described himself as a skeptical optimist. And he said, well, since you're locked out, would you like to come with me to services at, I'm going to call it, for the sake of the story, St. Vincent's House? And he said, would you like to come with me to St. Vincent's house? And I was like, God. And then I thought, well, why not? So I followed him down into the basement of this rescue mission where this cross had been flashing I'd been watching for so long. And as I walked in, it was this, you know, nasty place with. In a basement with brown mildewy carpet and, you know, these folding chairs all set up and a little Casio keyboard in the front and a single microphone like this. And when I walked in the door, I realized when all the heads turned, it was again a room full of men. It was all men. And I was the only woman in the room. And I sort of felt them define my body, you know, with their gaze. And I was kind of uncomfortable. But I walked with Patrick to the front and we sat down and there was this amazing service. And the man who was the musical director had actually penned this song in the 50s, Jimmy Mack, when Are youe Coming Back? And it was like this really kind of rockin out sort of place. And as I was sitting there in this room full of men, I realized that I'd been going out to these auditions and getting rejected and coming home and rejecting would be novelist. And here I was sitting in this room full of sort of society's most rejected Men. And for the first time, I felt really accepted. And so I started spending almost every day at St. Vincent's House. And I started volunteering there. And I was flipping pancakes every morning for hundreds of men. And I felt like Wendy among the Lost Boys. You know, I was the only woman. And, you know, I got a lot of attention and I felt like I really mattered. And I was there for the men and I was there for God. But I knew I was really there for Patrick. And one day we were in the back rebuilding a wall that had crumbled. And we were mixing the mortar to lay the bricks. And I was walking with two heavy buckets. And when my hands were full and my shoulders were aching, he kissed me and we were lovers the next day. And then I realized how somebody like Patrick ends up in a rescue mission. And he had come down from Canada with $8,000 of his business partner's money to be a record producer. And in one weekend he'd locked in a hotel room and he had smoked it all in crack. $8,000 worth of crack in one weekend. But everything was going to be okay, because first he'd found God and now he'd found me. And he was saved. And it felt like I was saved too, because I'd been living this sort of like lonely life, feeling so small in this big city. And now I belonged. And I started eating at sort of the best restaurants in New York, courtesy of City Harvest. You know those trucks where they donate all the leftovers they drive up. And so I was eating chocolate covered strawberries and poached salmon, and I was wearing the best clothes because people would donate clothes to the rescue mission. And one day he showed up with an armload of dresses with the Macy's tag still on them. And they had been the last. They were the purchases of a manic depressive woman on a last shopping spree before she threw herself out of an eight story window. And then one day, Patrick asked me for something in return. And he said, I live with all these men and I never have any privacy. And I would really love to just take a shower alone. And could I have a key to your apartment so that I could come and take a shower sometimes? And I looked at him, this man that I said I loved, with this complete, full self and this absolute trust. And I remembered that $8,000 worth of crack and where I had found him. And I said, I'm sorry, I can't. And he said, you are a fucking selfish cunt. And he turned and he left. And that Might have been the end of the story. Except that a few days later I was walking down 51st street and I saw him passing a joint with two other residents of St. Vincent's House. And in that moment I realized that my love was the only thing that stood between him and complete oblivion. And that if I just loved him a little bit harder and a little less selfishly, that I could save him. I was 21 years old. And so instead of walking past him or calling him a fucking asshole, as I probably should have, instead, I dropped to my knees in the middle of this Hell's Kitchen street and I said, I love you. I don't want you to die. Will you move in with me? And he did. And he left St. Vincent's house. And we left behind the cross. And we tried to live like a normal couple. And I realized once we were living together that the crack and the pot had really been sort of self medicating, a profound manic depression. He would be super high and he would crash super low. But we still tried to live like normal people. And we had fun times and we had so little money, you know, I'd gone back to rejecting manuscripts and I got some soulless temp job and he got a job as a bike messenger and lost it. And whenever he was broke, he was clean. And whenever he got the littlest bit of money, he would go back and start doing drugs. But I was going to save him. And we would have these good times. One time we went down some back alley of Chinatown and we found this arcade, if any of you have been here long enough, where they used to have this dancing chicken. And you'd put the quarter in the slot and it was on an electrified plate and the chicken would get shocked and it would dance like that. Next to it was another chicken that played tic tac toe. And so you would put your money in that slot and you'd play tic tac toe with this chicken. And Patrick was like calling out strategy to me. You know, put the X, put the O. And I'm like playing tic tac toe with this chicken and I'm laughing so hard. I made all the wrong choices and I didn't even force a draw. I lost to a chicken. And it was about that time that we ran completely out of money for any of those luxuries, like going to the arcade. Thank you. I'm going to wrap it up. Or going to the movies or eating or birth control pills with the inevitable result. And I told Patrick I was pregnant. One day in Central park on a bright, beautiful, sunny day. And his face just lit up, and he was so excited. And he's like, that's great. He said, we'll move back to Canada and we'll live with my parents and we'll get on the dole. And I was like, I'm 21. And again he was asking me for trust. And again, I had none to give him. And so we went to the doctor. And the night after the operation, he went to bed. And I got out that battered yellow journal that I'd been writing about him. And I wrote the date, September 9, 1989. And I underlined it. And that was all I had to say. And I felt so trapped. And I felt like I tried to be windy among the lost Boys, and instead I was just lost. And I walked up the steps of this horrible tenement apartment we lived in in Hell's Kitchen. And you know, even then, I was so self conscious. It's like I was wearing this long white nightgown that I'd worn in some Shakespearean play. And I was so conscious of the picture I made this young girl, you know, on the roof of this Hell's Kitchen building. And I was still living my life in third person, except now it wasn't a story anymore. I had actually caused real damage, and I was trapped. And I remember I walked out onto the roof of this building and I sat down, and I sat down with my legs dangling over the edge of this five story building. And I thought about that woman with her Macy's price tags. And I sort of leaned forward and I thought, I'm not here to do that, but if I fall, would I stop myself? And I was so dark. And I was thinking, in this huge city where I felt so small, it's like if only anybody cared about me. And if only there could be one good deed in this world. And at that very moment, I heard this voice behind me, this deep, rich voice, and it said, step away from the edge. And I was like, holy shit, you know, maybe I am that important. And then this voice repeated, it said, step away from the edge. And I turned and there were these two police officers standing in the doorway of this tenement. And the first police officer said, we got a call from somebody who said there was a woman on the roof who was getting ready to jump. And the second police officer said, you weren't really going to jump, were you, miss? And I thought for a minute and I said, well, well, you know, it's what Jean Paul Sartre always says. He says, when you're walking along the edge of a cliff, you're not worried whether you're going to fall. You're worried whether or not you're going to jump. And the second police officer said, miss, don't talk that way or we're going to have to take you to Bellevue. And so I looked back at them and I looked back over this dark city and I realized the impossibility of ever rescuing anybody. And yet somebody out there had been watching me in the way I had been watching Patrick and those suffering men at St. Vincent's House. And in this city that lets you fall, people also stretch out a hand to help you back up. And that night I took it and I followed those police officers back inside. Thank you.