The weirdest experience, it’s a true story but a sad one.
Met someone tonight who was like no one else I’ve met before.
His wife was lost in Grenfell towers.
His life was lost in Grenfell towers.
He is alive.
His wife is not.
This man was telling us about how he lost the life of his wife. And how he was dealing with it.
He invited us info his personal space.
I have no words for what we’ve just been through. What he’s been through. What he’s shared that is so personal to him. That he opened up to us about. This food just needed to talk to someone.
We were invited into this random mans home. And he shared with us his inner most secret. He’s not told the BBC his story. He’s not told SKY news what happened. He’s not sold his story to the highest bidder.
He’s a man that misses his family. That misses what could have been. That misses what should’ve been.
As he invited us to his flat to share his inner most secrets, not for one second was I worried for our safety. No, I missed the insults that others hurled at him., from across the street. That they shouted “don’t trust him” “LOOK at him, scum”
I trusted this man I’d never met. I saw the pain in his eyes of someone that had lost someone dear to him. It felt like we needed to be there for this man in this moment, because I worried for this man. I worried about what might happen next.
And I’m glad we did.
After he showed us his way of dealing with such tragedy, we called him an Uber. We asked him where he wanted to go and he wanted to go to his moms. So we helped him get there.
And the rest? Wow. I have no idea.
Don’t judge a book by its cover. Offer someone your ears sometimes.