The Tax Man Cometh

I have resisted coming here for so long.

I've always managed to consider myself a survivor, a fighter, a tenacious man. The world came at me hard and I fought it back with knitting needles. I worked my way out of homelessness by knitting. And I was so proud of that. I fought to work my way out of a perilous life with stitches.

It took me two years. But, I did it. Finally, I had a place of my own, and more importantly, a purpose. You see, I wasn't only knitting, but was writing in a blog about the whole experience. And what I discovered was that I had clung to hope so deeply, that I knew I would be safe. I knew that I would survive as long as I had optimism and my knitting needles. That feeling was contagious, it resonated with people.



Not long after, my story of struggle and thrive grew viral. Huffington Post. Yahoo News. The story of a homeless man who knit his way to safety reminded people that challenges in life can be met with proud optimism and the strangest of talents.

My books and my teddy bears were now providing an income for me, paying my bills. But, more so, I found that I was inspiring others to never collapse, to always pursue all endeavours with the heart, and most importantly, to never give up. 

My health had deteriorated while I was homeless. Lack of proper nutrition had set my weight to a 120 pounds, my teeth sufffered through infections, and all the knitting had caused severe nerve damage in my left arm.



So, I was squirreling away money to fix myself, to fix the body. And then the fine notion dawned on me that once I was well, I would save enough money to buy myself a tiny little trailer outside the city, where life was less expensive, where there would be room for a garden, where their was enough quiet heard in the soul that I could knit, write, and continue to inspire. 

As all was working it's way into beautiful fruition, I woke one day to find my bank account depleted. Every cent I had raised was gone. All of that hard work had vanished.

The IRS had levied my bank account and confiscated what I had to settle a tax debt that I was unaware of. With many phone calls and letters from their Kansas City office it was discovered that they had been looking for me since I had gone homeless.

Apparently, I had accumulated a tax debt beginning the year prior to my being homeless. When you go to find food, you don't think about the tax man, to which one of their representatives reminded me on the phone, "I know you were probably going through some trouble, but you still need to be in touch with the IRS."

It' so ironic that I knit myself out of homelesness....and the government is going to make me homeless again....

It was then I decided, as a survivor and fighter, and as a man who pushes back when life pushes him down, that I had to come here, or rather, that I would pursue all possible options to not be defeated. 



Do you know the worst thing about this situation is? I was so hoping at some point, that once my health was tended to, and that I had my little spot quietly outside the noise, that I could actually give back to the world in many of the way the world has been so beautiful to me. 

And I'm stilling going to pursue that dream, to settle this tax debt, so that I can fix my health, so that I can get back on track to helping and inspiring others.

There's nothing I can give in return, save my unyielding promise to pay forward.


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