Drudge had a link tonight that said…
NOBODY KNOWS HIM: Man who died after 9 years in coma to get nameless grave
The link takes you to a UPI story about a New York man, known only as “Henry,” who was severely beaten near Yankee Stadium in July 1996. Imagine what kind of life a man leads who can go missing from somewhere for nine and a half years! What if nobody ever inquired about you after nine and a half years? Imagine leaving so few footprints that no one even knows your name after nine and a half years!
I’m wondering tonight how many Henrys there are in my community, men and women whom nobody knows, men and women who matter so little to the people around them. I’m wondering tonight how many Henrys I pass every day. How many Joans, and Johns, and Freds, and Susans, and other names that may just be aliases for real people whom no one knows, about whom no one cares, for whom no one mourns.
But hear this: Somebody knows Henry. And this Somebody wants me to know Henry, too. Because if I don’t know Henry, more than likely I don’t know Somebody, either.
Selah…
