No Ordinary Window Man

by Greg Novak

You've seen him. Maybe you averted your eyes or gave a smile and a forgiving shrug. You may have reached into your pocket to give him a handful of change. Why? "They call me the Window Man," Curtis says with a beaming smile. Most afternoons he's working the lot at Farmer Joe's. For spare change, he'll polish your windows until they sparkle like new.

He's homeless; he sleeps in his car. Born and raised on the foggy side of the Bay, he once lived the American dream. He married, had four children, and moved to our sunnier shores in the late '70s. When he worked at Bechtel as a design engineer, life was good. A decade later everything dramatically changed.

His wife died, and then he got sick. First, it was scoliosis, a spinal disease that not only weakened his spine but caused excruciating pain. Later, a cataract took the vision from one eye. He then ended up on the street. Because he has no permanent address, state disability checks never arrived. This is when he became the Window Man.

Curtis came to our neighborhood toward the end of the '90s. Although most of us see him fervently scrubbing car windows, he's also hired by businesses along the Boulevard, "from Dimond to High," to wash their windows and do odd jobs. No one walks down the Boulevard with a higher bounce to his step, spends more time on our sidewalks, or talks to more of our neighbors than Curtis. No one feels the neighborhood's heartbeat more solidly. "I see what's going on," he says with a knowing laugh.

There's an unexpected gentleness about the man. When I approached Curtis about this story, I didn't know how he would react. Would he be too shy to have his life shared? Would he be suspicious that I might have some ulterior motive? He responded to the inquiry with a gaze over my shoulder and an infectious grin. After a few moments, with a sparkle in his eye, he softly replied "I would like that."

He strongly bucks the stereotype of the homeless man. He doesn't ask for handouts; he wants nothing for free. He's a hard-working college graduate. He's personable, with a positive outlook on life.

When asked to give an example of his funniest or strangest moment while washing someone's window, he hesitates. I can't tell if he's searching for the right answer or thinking that the questions are too trivial. His answer is unexpected, "Poetry. When someone shares some poetry with me." When I ask him why he washes windows, I get a caring and sincere reply, "I really feel that it's a matter of safety. I love people. I love to help people. I really feel that it's my destiny to help people."

He's a true Jack-of-all-Trades. "I can do anything. Painting. Drywall. You name it." And yes, he does do windows.