A tale of turkey sandwiches and second chances

I'm no longer going to call him "Scrappins." From now on, it's just Larry, a proper and respectful name for a guy who is once again trying to alter the course of his life with the help of some unlikely new friends.

I wrote about Larry back in August. The homeless man had developed the habit of showing up at the Turkey To Go truck that's parked on the Nicollet Mall at 8th Street, and asking for any left over "Scrappins." At first, owners Drew Levin and Danny Perkins politely declined. But they began to get a kick out of the amiable guy they called "Scrappins."

Then one day he showed up with a sign that read: "No booze, no drugs, I just want the cities all time best turkey sandwich (with BBQ sauce). Turkey to Go, the very best sandwich in town."

Business picked up as downtown workers began to take the advice of a destitute novice food critic. So Levin and Perkins made Larry a deal: Advertise our product and do some odd jobs, and you get enough turkey sandwiches to get you through the day. The turkey truck was also booked at the State Fair, and the owners hired Larry to hold a sign at their location on the mall, telling customers when they would be back.

After I wrote about the arrangement many people stopped by the truck to meet "Scrappins" and buy sandwiches. Some left messages of encouragement, some left money. The turkey guys collected the cash in an envelope and doled it out in small amounts.

"It was incredible," said Levin. "The response was overwhelming."

Larry said he was touched by how many people cared about him. Yet he knew the demons were not far behind. Just as Larry drank to his failures over the years, now he was drinking to his newfound popularity.

The turkey guys invited Larry to the fair and treated him to some rides. For the first time, he wasn't interested in turkey sandwiches.

"I was ripped," Larry said last week. He had smuggled booze into the fair and went on a bender until the turkey guys had to drive him home. "I just wanted another drink."

The next time he visited the truck, Larry was drunk again. Malloy could have chased him away, or called the cops. Instead, he sat down and had a talk with Larry.

"I really need you to clean it up," Malloy told him. "I love you man, you but you can't be a liability. I want you around."

Larry broke down crying and immediately called a nonprofit that helps people in crisis. They picked him up minutes later and gave him a warm bed. It's not the Hilton, but it's a far cry from "tramp camp" where Larry had slept. He can stay as long as he stays sober.

"This was a new experience for me," said Levin. "I really didn't know anybody that was homeless. You want to help, but we have a business and a brand and we just couldn't have him around anymore unless he did something."

Sitting in a coffee shop 52 sober days later, Larry (who asked that his last name be kept private) talked about a life wasted, of petty crimes and of love lost because of booze and betrayals.

"I've been rich and poor four times," he said. "I'm getting too old to bounce back again."

He talked about possessions as though they were old friends. "I had beautiful shirts and shoes, now look at me," he said, touching an old coat the turkey guys got for him. "I had rugs, pots and pans, a video library."

"People have taken chances on me before and I've blown it," Larry said. "Now that I'm sober, I have another chance to better my life."

"I'd be the first to say he might not make it," said Malloy. "But if people had given up on me, I don't know where I'd be. Maybe this is his time."

"I don't know what the next step is for us," said Levin. "We certainly want to be there when he gets to the next point."

Meanwhile, they are offering a kind of tribute to Larry for the holidays. For every family that buys carved turkey from them for Thanksgiving, they will donate turkey to a family in need through Hunger Solutions Minnesota. You can go to www.turkeyguys.com to place orders.

Good luck, Larry. May there be many, many turkey sandwiches in your future.