A Good Deed in a Naughty World...

How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
~William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice

My blog today is dedicated to one of the most beautiful men I know. Tom Webb. 

And this day, by coincidence—as I’d already planned the post—is his birthday. So I not only am able to celebrate the work of this man I’m simply mad about but I can also celebrate his birthday.

Tom, it IS okay to tell everyone that today is your big 5-0? Fifty years old today! 

Tom is a hero. Not one whose name you’ll see in People Magazine, but one of those priceless souls who works behind the scenes for a huge cause—serving individuals and families living with HIV/AIDS.

He is the Director of Finance for Living Room, a non-profit agency in the metro Atlanta area. This agency provides emergency housing related services (utility support, rent/mortgage payments), housing referrals and subsidized housing support. Their goal is to help low income and/or homeless people and families find housing, and assist them in moving to some kind of permanent housing.

Living Room was founded in 1995 by a nun who worked with Trinity Community Missions. She worked with Grady Infectious Disease Program (IDP) and saw a need for people who came in to get hooked up with housing. Eventually, it was incorporated as an independent nonprofit organization. They have served more than 21,000 households since formed.

Tom says of himself, I am really just an average guy. I decided to take the talent I have for accounting and finance and use it to help those who need it most. I am VERY good at stretching a dollar and using it to get the most bang for the clients.  I am told by other staff I am good at learning program, and translating it to finance and explaining how we arrive at financial decisions. Also at learning how to streamline operations and utilizing staff and resources to get the most work done for the least amount of money, so we can use as many dollars as we can to get to kids, HIV positive individuals, or whoever needs to.

Let me tell you something. I know Tom, and he is no average guy. He’s a beautiful soul. He makes me smile. Every day. Not only because I’m aware of his magnanimous heart and his quiet but huge work in his field, but because he’s simply a lovely heart. 

Tom—close your ears, my friend—is truly one of those wonderful men who fit the classic female complaint, All the good ones are either married or gay. He IS gay; but, if he were not, I’d be knocking at his door because he’s strong but tender, fiercely protective of his friends and—well, hell, he calls me McCarol. How could a girl not love that? 

Okay, now that Tom is thoroughly blushed out by my shameless gushing, let me tell you how he got into this vein of work.

In his own words: I lost several very good friends—one especially—to HIV and AIDS. My best friend from the age of 12 contracted HIV, and he decided rather than to ask for support and love, went to the west coast, where he went to college at Stanford, and die unannounced and unmourned. I didn't even know what happened for three years until I finally found a cousin of his who I went to school with. She told me, and I just can't tell you how it made me feel to know he died alone because he was afraid to ask for help. He was too proud. So, I try to do what I can to make sure another Jim doesn't have to happen.

Much of Tom’s story is best told in his own words, as he told to me. To give you an example of some of the things my friend has seen up close and personal is this account from another agency, The Bridge, where he worked prior to Living Room: It broke my heart to hear some of the stories of these kids. One young boy had been forced to have sex with his mother and sister, and it was videotaped for his mom and her boyfriend to sell for money. He was also prostituted for money so they could buy drugs. When he came to The Bridge, he was about 13 years old, a tiny beautiful little boy who had already been in 20 out of home placements. We helped him learn to deal with his issues of trusting adults and knowing how to interact with people who didn't want to use him sexually. He was eventually able to move to another placement, either a group home or foster family, I can't remember which, and was doing very well last time I heard. 

I got to interact with these kids, learn to love some of them as very special to me. They called me Mr. Tom, and I always kept this huge bucket of candy in my office so they could come up to see me and get a treat when they were on good behavior and wanted to come talk. I became almost a mentor to some, and some of them would come just to talk to someone who didn't judge them or want to provide therapy.  We all learned to talk the same strength based, family focused way of dealing with the kids (identify their strengths and support them in those traits, and not buy in to their behaviors that didn't work well for them).  

We had a pet therapy program, and the kids would love and handle pets and even talk to them where they couldn't do it with an adult.  I would bring my new dog in to work, and they would be able to work with our Animal Assisted Therapist, with a pet, to learn trust, impulse control and empathy.  

Tough stuff, isn’t it? Hearing Tom’s account of such horrific treatment to such innocents made me grateful that—although we weren’t wealthy and there were many things I could not provide for my child—I knew my daughter had love in our home. Sometimes we take this free but priceless commodity for granted. But I’m betting Tom, after his eyewitness experience with kids and families less fortunate, would tell us to cherish our love-filled homes. 

Tom said this to me: I am really nothing special, McCarol, just someone who does the best he can to help somebody else with what meager talents I have. No shit. What I want people to know is, anything they have to offer agencies like the ones I have worked with is appreciated, whether it is time, money, or sometimes just mentioning it to a friend who may know someone who knows someone with deeper pockets. 

I disagree with Tom on his not being special. He IS something special. He’s an urban angel. He’s a wonderful friend. He’s…Tom!

Tom, my friend—and, I swear sometimes I think my guardian angel—I adore you, I admire you, I love you, you unselfish man. You inspire me, you make my heart smile with hope. The hope of knowing there are caring hands for those who need them most. 

So can you all see why this is such a special day? This wonderful, quiet hero turns fifty today! 

Wishes for a happy, happy birthday to you, Tom! Wish I could be there to give you a huge hug in person and to share some birthday cake with you, and to sing—at the top of my warbling lungs—For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow! A DAMN good fellow!

The willingness to share does not make one charitable; it makes one free.  ~Robert Brault