He looks like a disheveled Ernest Hemingway, I thought to myself when the old man walked in.
Or like “The Most Interesting Man in the World,” but without the kempt beard, tailored suits, and fawning harem.
But what the old man looked like more than anything, was homeless.
His shoes were worn. His denim jeans were discolored from wear after wear without being washed by anything other than rain. His tattered, button-down shirt barely contained his broad shoulders.
And the old man’s face, cooked with sun, was what Hemingway himself might have seen had the old writer looked in the mirror soon after the successive plane crashes that changed his life.
What was this old, homeless man doing here? [Read more…] about Think Big, Act Small