Bus driver stories from heaven #2

Walter

“One of these days Alice, pow, right in the kisser.”—Ralph Kramden

Mid March 2020

Location Bellevue Transit Center

Route 550 to Seattle

Time: 9:11am est.

For over 15 years I picked up a black homeless man named Walter. I think his last name is Zimmerman. Walter is a high class homeless person. Any homeless person who can call downtown Bellevue home is high class. It’s Bill Gates hometown.

Walter stayed at what he calls, “camps.” You know tent and sleeping bag. He has two camps. One of them is a high-rise penthouse furnished suite. The other is the same. Here they are, one across from the other.

Inside view.

I am the only Metro bus driver who knew where Walter’s camps were located. I’m the only one he trusted. I am honored.

The way Walter could stay in such luxurious camps is because he has the keys to the buildings. He never told me how he got the keys and I never asked. Walter would call pretending to be a possible renter and ask if they have any rooms available. They would then tell him over the phone which rooms were available. He would then let himself into the back building between 9-10pm. It depended on if there was a football game on or not.

His key was a master key. He’d then go up to the room, shower, make something to eat and hang out and enjoy his million-dollar view. His bed was nicely made with clean sheets. Walter would awaken around 5am and dress and make the bed making sure the bed was made perfectly. He’d then wipe the shower down and kitchen sink making sure it looked exactly as it was when he arrived. He’d then simply let himself out and return in the evening.

I was parked in my zone ready to leave and Walter shows up.

“Wassssssup W,” I asked?

“I’m unna ride which you awhile.”

“Groovy man.”

“Mike, what the fuck is wrong with everyone. They’ve all gone fucking crazy.”

“I know.”

“They all run and try and get away from me like I have a big chunk of coronavirus in my back pocket.”

“Let me take a look.”

“Fuck you.”

Walter was real irritated. Unusual for him. Everyone typically loves him and welcomes him. He has that aura that projects off him. Because of the induced media covid fear people are freakin. So is he. An example of his aura; he once told me he was recently walking through the mall in one of these high class clothing stores, Nordstroms or something. He said a young girl who worked in the perfume department called him over. He said she was flirting with him. He said, “Mike she had know idea she was flirting with a man probably old enough to be her dad and homeless.” He said she asked him out. He agreed. I told him the pressure is on. I said, “Walter you’re going to only get once chance here and if you F this up you won’t get another.”

“Goddamn you Mike. Don’t put anymore fear on me.” I laughed.

On our drive down to Seattle Walter tells me what this is all about. It’s about taking out the homeless people. Killing them. I nod in agreement. I told him they won’t get him. Walter travels alone. He’s never with any other homeless people. The reason is he’s paranoid someone will discover his camps.

On second ave there is a men’s homeless shelter called the Union Gospel Mission. After Governor Inslee launched the WEF plandemic the homeless shelters were closed. The homeless inside were now trapped inside. It was the same for the women’s shelters. The shelter’s claimed if you leave you could catch covid, return and spread it to everyone else, so you had to make a decision. In March it was still cold outside some many made the decision to remain inside.

I told Walter I haven’t noticed anyone around the shelter. There is nobody going in or out. The homeless have pitched tents directly across the street. I stopped my bus there several times and asked them what happened to the men inside the shelter. They said they didn’t know. I shared Walter’s fears before he even mentioned it to me. Walter said it was a shared rumor amongst all of the homeless community.  

On our way down Walter started talking about death. He told me January he had a blood infection and nearly died. He said he was in intensive care for a week. He said as soon as he was strong enough to stand they booted him out. He said he felt okay now. He feared death. He told me one time it was snowing hard outside and cold as hell and he couldn’t wait to get to his camp. He got inside and as he passed the bedroom he looked in and froze. He told me the comforter was black. “So what,” I said. “It’s just a fucking blanket.”

“No it isn’t Mike. It’s the color of death.” I laughed. “You’re black. Maybe I shouldn’t pick you up.”

“Fuck you Mike.” He said he left the building and stayed outside all night long.

I re-routed the conversation back to the homeless shelter. I asked Walter if while he’s downtown if he can talk to the homeless across the street and see if they have any information on what happened to the men inside. He didn’t want to do it. He told me to do it. “Walter, look at me. They might fucking kill me dressed like this.” He agreed and said he’d do it.

Walter hung out with me on my break at the Convention Center on 6th and Pike street. Nobody was out and about. While he was sitting in the bus he held up his hands and made two fists. He said, “Mike, in all the years you’ve known me what is the one thing you’ve never seen me do?” I shook my head. “You’ve never seen me standing on a street corner with a sign in my hand begging.” He was right. Walter got out his phone and started texting another driver. He asked me if a certain route was running and I told him I didn’t know. He texted the driver to inquire. While he was looking at his phone for some reason I got my bag down and took out my phone. I held it up at him. “What are you doing,” he asked?

“I’m going to take your picture.”

“Why?”

I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what to say. I said, “Because you look like a doctor with the glasses on.”

I took his picture and he asked to see it. I showed him and he nodded in approval.

We made plans to either have lunch next week or he’d hop one of my routes and tell me what he found out about the homeless men in the shelter.

The next week there is no Walter. Not unusual with him. The next week, still no Walter. Now it’s unusual. Two more weeks go by and I don’t see him. I’m thinking he might have gotten caught and arrested for trespassing; however he’s been staying there for years so I kind of kicked that out.

I went to the Bellevue police station. Everyone there knows Walter. I told them I had plans with him weeks ago and he never showed up and now I haven’t seen him. They told me he was found dead in downtown Kirkland. The town where the first person to supposedly die from Covid 19 happened.

The listed cause of death was natural causes. I took the last picture of Walter alive. A week or so after I was talking to another driver about how sad I was to have lost Walter. He shared my sadness. I showed him the picture I took. He told me him and his wife had dinner with Walter and he gave Walter the jacket that he’s wearing. And then he said, “Did you know Walter’s dad is a doctor.” So that’s why I said he looked like a doctor. Walter told me his family shunned him because of the life he is living and that he had little to no contact with any of them.

I thought about Walter a lot on my routes. I wondered what street information he could have provided me. There is no way Walter would have ever taken the shot and we could have shared some interesting stories as we both went through it together, but it wasn’t meant to be.

I miss him.