This story was first published by the Charlotte Ledger.
Lee Edison Hansel Jr. spent 50 years living outside in Charlotte.
His home the last decade or so was a covered alcove outside St. Peter’s Episcopal Church at North Tryon and West Seventh Streets near Discovery Place uptown. Among his belongings were a mattress, blanket, some clothes and papers. Lee also had a purpose. He was an unofficial church custodian. He picked up trash outside. He helped tend to the flowers. The story goes that one day everyone at church was in a staff meeting and there was no one to answer the phone. So Lee did. St. Peter’s was happy to have him as a friend and neighbor. They welcomed him in for coffee and to freshen up. What mail he received came to the church.
In March 2022, living outside, Lee was badly beaten. Both his arms were broken. One became infected. The attack accelerated his dementia. He never fully recovered. He died on Oct. 6. Lee was 78. That’s a long time considering that the current life expectancy in the United States is 79.1 — and most Americans have a roof over their heads rather than a mattress in an alcove.
According to government statistics, Lee was one of 582,000 men, women and children who experienced homelessness in America in 2022. Wonder how many of those 582,000 souls spent the previous 49 years on the street? Lee wouldn’t have balked at being a statistic. But he would have objected to being called “homeless.” He preferred “living outside.” More precisely in Lee’s case: “Choosing to live outside despite all attempts from family, friends and nonprofits to find him temporary or permanent shelter.”
Where were you during the Watergate scandal? Lee was in the elements. Keep his lifestyle choice in mind as you read the story of his life. When you’ve reached the end, see if you can understand Lee, even appreciate him. See if you can find a place in your heart for him and others who go their own way.
‘He Didn’t Want To Be A Burden’
Lee grew up in Mount Holly in Gaston County, the second of four children. His father ran a car repair shop. His mother was a nurse. Lee earned his Eagle Scout at 13. As a teenager, he became an archery champion. As a senior at Mount Holly High School, classmates voted him “Most Likely To Succeed.” In 1970, he graduated from UNC Charlotte with a degree in mechanical engineering. He started life after school with a job and an apartment. Then severe depression began to set in. Shock treatments helped for a time. His family, then and always, rallied around him. But by his mid-to-late 20s, the street had won out. He’d go home to Mount Holly for short periods, including at the holidays. But he had trouble making conversation or eye contact. He’d often sit in a room by himself. His father would give him money. Lee wouldn’t accept more than $20. He didn’t want Christmas gifts.
The street life wasn’t just a consequence of mental illness. Liz Clasen-Kelly, CEO of the nonprofit Roof Above, says Lee was all about his independence. Lee’s brother-in-law, Jim Govern of Winston-Salem, says, “He was extremely proud and wanted to live life his way. Baked into his character was an inability to accept help from somebody else. He didn’t want to be a burden to anyone.”
Jim and his wife (Lee’s sister), Patsy Hansel, say Lee did not abuse drugs or alcohol. He didn’t panhandle. He was polite. He wasn’t schizophrenic, didn’t hear voices. Roof Above promised Lee a bed any night he came to the shelter. Except for the occasional frigid night, Lee always said “No thank you.” The police had no quarrel with him. The unofficial title he earned, Dean Of The Streets, was meant as a compliment.
So what does 50 years on the street look like?
Lee walked around a lot, briskly, up and down South Boulevard and throughout uptown. If you approached, he’d say he was looking for a job and didn’t have time to stop or slow down. Like many of his peers, he sought warmth in the since-demolished uptown library. Twenty or so years ago, when the St. Peter’s soup kitchen served a soup-and-sandwich lunch to the needy, Lee was a regular. The soup kitchen long ago moved north on North College to Roof Above. He rarely ate there. St. Peter’s member Candace Armstrong remembers dropping him off at the Harris Teeter uptown one morning, where they let him microwave his breakfast, often oatmeal. He was clever. He kept his valuables, including a cell phone, in a bucket that he then turned over and sat on for safekeeping.
One day in 2012, Clasen-Kelly stopped to chat with Lee. He told her he was about to go to Rome. Nice, Liz thought, Georgia is lovely this time of year. He meant Rome, Italy. Lee managed to save enough money from disability and other sources to wrangle a passport, birth certificate (with the help of his brother, Jack, a lawyer) and plane ticket to get himself there. He loved Rome. The only downside to the trip? He was robbed twice. Without resources, he went to the American Embassy. His sister, Patsy, finishes the story in an email: “The siblings had to get him a plane ticket to come back after we got a call from the American Embassy asking us to get him home, please.” She ended the email with a smiley face. With a brother living outside for 50 years, it helps to maintain a sense of humor. Despite the robberies, Lee said he wanted to go back to Rome one day.
Over the years, there were happy times. (Who can really say when Lee was happiest?) Family would take him to Lake Norman, where he used to go as a child. Patsy and Jim took him out for lunch. He liked Cracker Barrel and all-you-can-eat Chinese buffets. For his 70th birthday lunch, they got takeout and took him to a park in Belmont. He enjoyed a fish sandwich.
‘Did We Do Enough?’ Complicated, right?
Perhaps if Lee hadn’t chosen to live outside 50 years ago, he wouldn’t have died as a result of being on the street. Mental health care and medications have improved. People who are mentally ill are by and large no longer treated as pariahs. Neither are the homeless, at least by those with at least half a heart. Perhaps he’d have trusted people enough to accept an invitation from Roof Above to move into one of its affordable housing apartments. At Roof Above’s True Blessings luncheon to raise money and awareness, Clasen-Kelly told the crowd that Lee’s life and death are never far from her thoughts. “Did we do enough?” she asked the 1,000-plus people in attendance. “It is the question that always haunts us with this work.”
One more thing.
Lee’s family was and forever will be sad. But they understand. They agree that Lee was at peace. It wasn’t so much a question of “Was he happy?” as it was a question of “Did he live life his way?” The answer is yes, which leads to another question. “What, if anything, could or should we have done in the matter of Lee Edison Hansel Jr.?” And then another. “What would it have looked like if we as his fellow human beings had loved Lee?”
Lee was cremated. At his request, he was laid to rest beside his mother and father in a cemetery in his native Mount Holly, a mile or so from home.
Ken Garfield is a freelance writer/editor who specializes in obituaries. Reach him at garfieldken3129@gmail.com.