All the Way to the Bottom

One night a man was brought into New York’s busy Bellvue Hospital. He appeared to be just another bum with a slashed throat.

He had been brought in from the Bowery, which in many cases was the last stop before the morgue. The Bowery was a synonym of filth, loneliness, cheap booze, drugs, disease, and the dead end of many a life.

He looked like all the rest. It was obvious that he had only lived to drink. His health was gone. He was cold and starving. On that icy January morning, this man who looked twice his age, was found lying in a heap, naked and bleeding from a deep gash in this throat. His forehead was badly bruised and he was semi-conscious.

A doctor was called…however, time ran out. The man died…and was sent to the morgue.

There among dozens of colorless, nameless corpses with tags on their toes, the man was identified. When they scrapped together his belongings, they found a ragged, dirty coat with 38 cents in one pocket and a scrap of paper in the other. This was all his earthly goods. Enough coins for another night in the Bowery and five words on a piece of paper; “Dear friends and gentle hearts.”

Once upon a time before his tragic death at age 38, this man
had written songs that literally made the whole world sing:

Camptown Races
Oh! Susanna!
Beautiful Dreamer
Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair
Old Folks at Home
My Old Kentucky Home and over 200 more.

The bum found in the Bowery was Stephen Foster. What happened? Who knows for sure, but one thing is obvious. Sin and Satan can and will take a person to the bottom!