Mr. Bob Burns (not to be confused with the late Lynyrd Skynyrd drummer) was one of the more visible characters here in South Philly, and he seemed to be everywhere. No, not at one time, but he got around. Bob was a local fixture who was a homeless man. He had an affection for quart bottles of beer before 40s became the size of choice for those who may find beer to be their sole reason to exist. You could find Bob and his quart sitting in the doorway of just about any business around, whether it be on Oregon Ave, Shunk St., West Passyunk Ave., Broad Street, Snyder Ave., wherever. His constant traveling companion was a guy the kids called "Drunken Joe" who lived on Bancroft before his passing. Bob and Joe would just sit for hours drinking their beer and discussing the critical issues of the day. Make that the issues were critical to them. Those issues may have been serious, but they probably centered around - what else? - beer. We'll never really know.
A few years ago, my cousin and I were talking about the characters we knew from living in South Philly. The first name he came up with was Bob Burns, and he told me a humorous story I had not heard before.
It turns out there was one former West Passyunk Avenue auto parts store owner who liked to "help" Bob whenever possible. That meant Bob was going to be on the wrong end of a practical joke whenever he offered hos assistance. On cold nights, the business owner offered Mr. Burns the use of his store to get a good, safe, night's sleep and get cleaned up. That meant locking him in overnight. When he returned one morning, the businessman gave Bob a shave to tidy him up. Much to Bob's dismay, he "dropped" the razor down the heating duct after shaving half of his face. Of course, he didn't have another one. So Bob walked around South Philly for a few days with one side of his face having thicker stubble than the other, one side totally smooth for the day. No photo is known to exist of Bob after that semi-shave. This wasn't the first or last joke played at Bob's expense, but whether because he was desperate or because he lacked common sense, he kept coming back; for a while anyhow. During one of Bob's sleep-overs, he decided to defecate on the store floor rather than use the toilet. Some may say that he ruined a good thing, losing shelter. I'd say he got his revenge. I wouldn't want to be working the counter that day, or be the employee who had to clean up the mess. Whatever, someone had a bad day after that. It makes you wonder if they used copious amounts of Lysol or the store supply of the pine tree air fresheners to make working bearable that morning.
Bob Burns and Drunken Joe are long gone. They both exited somewhere mid-way through the 70s. Joe was found dead at home but Bob wasn't seen around anymore and presumed to have passed. As funny as the joke was, it's sad to see lives wasted that way.
AND YOU MAY REMEMBER...
... The guy who would panhandle cars at Broad & Wolf while they waited for the light in the late 1990s through the start of the new millenium, asking for money to buy a hot dog. If he bought dogs with what he took in, his cholesterol level would probably be alarming. His nourishment usually came in the form of beer. I saw that guy in the Philadelphia Daily News, they caught a photo of him scouraging beer from half-empty bottles in the old Veterans Stadium parking lot after an Eagles game.
... The guy who couldn't keep his story straight. This young guy would hang in the area of Broad and Snyder looking for a handout. His problem was that he couldn't remember which name he used or who he talked to. He once introduced himself as Jimmy and asked for help with some cash so he could visit his ailing mother in Scranton. A few weeks later, he used the name Dominic and he had to get to Reading to visit his mom and was too broke for a bus ticket. Someone told me that he was a regular in the area and bought drugs with whatever he could get. As long as he's drug-addled, he's never going to get anything.
... Trying to help someone in need and regretting it. A friend once had a panhandler ask for money for food. He told him he didn't have spare cash, but would give up his brown-bag lunch if he wanted it. He said he would like that, took it, and went on his way. My friend looked back after walking a short distance to see his lunch being thrown into the sewer. So much for trying to do good for someone.
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