Street Stories - A Ringside Seat To Over 4 Decades Of Taking Jesus To The Streets Of The World

tell somebody, every time I stand up for the Lord, He becomes that much more real in my heart.”

It is now 1:30 on Sunday morning, and Bobby and I take one last cruise down Santa Monica Boulevard. The guys are still there, despite the cold, still leaning up against the buildings or sitting on benches near the street corners. One guy clutches a tape deck to his ear, another rubs his crotch at a passing car, and another flicks his tongue as I look up. We pass a short black female prostitute with a leather clutch bag and pull up to a 7-Eleven so Bobby can get a coke. Bobby comes out munching M&M’s and fiddling with his Dr. Pepper just as the prostitute walks up. She stands there for a while in front of the store, moving from one leg to the other, as if practicing sexy poses. She tries to assume an air of casual, alluring sophistication, but only manages to look intensely uncomfortable. Bobby, off to the side, catches my eye and smiles. Then he saunters over. “How’s it going tonigh t?” he asks. She shrugs. He says, “I don’t know if you know it or not, but God really loves you.” She says, “Oh yes, I know it ,” and looks away. Bobby sips his pop and smiles at her as she begins to talk. It turns out she lives just down the street and goes to the Catholic church every week. She lets Bobby pray for her, and then she says, politely, “Excuse me, I have to get a date.” Back in the car, Bobby is strangely silent, and I look at the cars and lights and another girl getting picked up. Suddenly Bobby says, “Oh God” – he bites the words off – “convict her.” I look at him quickly as he slaps the wheel, grips it tightly, and stares ahead.

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